


Storms over White Shores

by jnnln



Category: Distant Shores (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Choices, Choices: Stories You Play - Freeform, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, NSFW, Pirates, Pixelberry, Polly the Parrot, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, Threeway Kiss, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnnln/pseuds/jnnln
Summary: The Seasonal Christmasy/New Year Special that many of us want, but Choices won't give us. Or at least this was the initial idea for it. Well... it still has elements of it.In the past, Christmas is almost there, and Edward's and Oliver's crews get stuck together on a remote island.In the present, 6 months have passed. But be warned: Robert and the MC have grown closer, after initial attempts to make the compass work. Robert wants to give it another try.... and this time, they get back to the past.(as this is a special, it'll be shorter than my usual works)
Relationships: Edward Mortemer/Main Character (Distant Shores), Edward Mortemer/Oliver Cochrane/Main Character (Distant Shores), Oliver Cochrane/Edward Mortemer, Oliver Cochrane/Main Character (Distant Shores), Robert/Main Character (Distant Shores)
Comments: 196
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

A mass of dark rain-clouds gathered at the horizon. It slowly got closer, threatening the azure ocean with a cold shadow. The gray shade extended its claws, gradually covering the sky. The waves turned gnarly, crashing faster and harder over the tide-line. A sudden gust of wind blew up the white sand and fizz of the foam into the air.

A pirate watched the changing weather with narrowed eyes and sighed. He had hoped that by the end of November, the hurricane season would have already been over, but it looked like heavy tropical downpours would interrupt his crew, meticulously scraping the exposed bottom of a freshly captured sloop.

Only a couple of weeks ago, joining forces with a pirate crew of the ship called Ranger, they made a capture of a merchant's vessel, carrying a cargo of provisions from England to Jamaica. They divided captured goods, beer and rum, barrels of flour, salted pork, and cured beef in two. He and his crew took control of the sloop and set a course for the Spanish waters, for the island called La Blanquilla. Known for its wide, gently sloping, white-sand beaches, the place was a perfect hideout where they could spend Christmas and New Year, rest, careen the vessel and convert her into a pirate ship. The inclement weather was not on their side, though.

He whistled a quick series of notes, and a colorful parrot appeared, diving from the sky to nestle comfortably at his shoulder.

"Come, Polly, let's get to the camp before the cloudburst catches us," he gently smoothed her ruffled feathers.

"Pretty girl! Pretty girl!" Polly responded to his caress, squinting her eyes.

"Yes, you are a pretty girl," he smiled thinly, but sorrow overshadowed for a moment his dark eyes.

He followed his own footsteps back into the dunes. The first drops of rain started falling exactly when they got to the tented camp. He lowered his head, entering one of the sheltered tents, let the parrot settle on the wooden construction, and leaned over it himself, listening to the raindrops thudding on the canvas. The smell of rain in the air hit him. A female pirate joined him.

"The weather, it doesn't look good."

"I expect the thunderstorm during the night," he answered, fixing his eyes on the streams of water lashing against the heaved ship. "If we are lucky, it will clear tomorrow."

"So, have you decided on the name yet?" she nudged him. "Or should we stick to Poseidon's Revenge II?"

"Nay, the revenge part is over, Charlie," he growled.

"So why not go with the obvious, Edward?" she gently squeezed his shoulder.

He grunted something under his nose, and a painful wince appeared briefly on his face.

"Naming the ship after her will help you," Charlie gently released her grip, her palm smoothened creases of his leather jacket. As the voice caught in his throat, he just shook his head, dismissing her advice.

* * *

"Lieutenant, sir…" there was a sudden knocking on Oliver's cabin door.

"What is it, Doyle?"

An officer stormed in, catching his breath with difficulty.

"We have a circumstance, the weather, I don't know how the sailors miss it…"

Oliver lifted his head from the book or some letters he was studying; Doyle couldn't exactly tell. The dim candlelight in the cabin was casting long shadows, shivering disturbingly with the yawing of the Intrepid.

"There is a storm, approaching fast…, we won't be able to outrun it."

 _Damn,_ Oliver thought to himself _._ This was the price he was still paying for operating with the skeleton crew and his past decisions.

"It's all right," he stood up rapidly, grabbing his coat, and darted out of the cabin, preoccupied Doyle following him to the main deck.

It didn't look good. It was dark, the furious wind blowing, thunders rumbled in the distance with increasing frequency. The temperature dropped, and the wall of rain rushed towards them. The ship began rolling from side to side.

"Mr. Doyle, make sure cannons are secured," Oliver ordered, and once his Master of Arms ran off to carry out the order, he joined his First Mate at the quarterdeck.

"Mr. Aldridge, stand down and retreat under the deck, warm up and rest. We will need you later," Oliver turned to the man trying to steer the ship. He took the helm over himself. He needed to be sure that The Intrepid was in the best hands. He also knew he needed to take good care of his men.

"This is miserable, but we will see through this," Oliver shouted to the rest of his crew, desperately trying to remove all excess gear from the deck, secure loose rigging lines, and reef the sails to keep the ship in balance.

They were about to get caught in the approaching hurricane, somewhere close to Spanish territorial waters of the Viceroyalty of New Granada. His best bet was to head out to open waters for sea room instead of taking the risk of getting caught close to shore, with no room to maneuver or run off.

He needed to run before the wind, and this was exactly what his crew was preparing to do, reefing all the sails except for the small storm foresail. He normally would have stricken the mainmast down too in similar conditions, but couldn't afford to do that with the skeleton crew. Once again he cursed himself under his nose.

Above him, the dark sky boiled and seethed, clouds blew by the wind reaching the speed of a hundred miles an hour. Bolts of lightning were tearing the sky, and Oliver couldn't help but admire the amazing spectacle offered to him by the nature and the ocean herself.

_If only he weren't responsible for his remaining crew, maybe this would be the best way to end his suffering after she disappeared, once and for all. At least now he had nothing to lose._

His grip on the wheel tightened as a mountainous wave rose behind them. All he needed to achieve is to keep the ship's stern towards the waves and try to run from the storm. The Intrepid began her descend over the wave, at least forty feet tall. The lighting tore the night sky again, casting down shivers of light.

A wave crashed on the deck over the aft-rail with a great force, and Oliver felt salty spray on his tired face. The sudden blow of wind stroke the Intrepid, at the same time when the wall of rain hit the masts. Some reefed sails loosened and were torn by gale coming from behind, and some bits of heavy rigging came crashing onto the decks. Oliver cursed and gripped the wheel harder to keep the ship in the position. Another spar and torn sail hit the deck in front of him. He suddenly couldn't catch a breath, as the surrounding air was full of salty foam, and the last thing he thought was: _Here, you had your death wish_.

_Then there was silence._

* * *

"Lieutenant Cochrane," the next thing Oliver heard was the remote voice of his Master of Arms, "Sir."

He opened his eyes to see preoccupied faces of both Aldridge and Doyle above him. He looked around with difficulty; he was in his own cabin. He tried to speak, but both of his officers stopped him, giving him the update of their current status.

"We made it, Lieutenant. We outrun the storm," Aldridge sounded excited.

"But sir, you shouldn't have risked your life like that," Doyle cut in.

"The Intrepid suffered great losses," Aldridge continued his update "we have been stranded close to a backwater island called la Blanquilla."

Doyle interrupted him again.

"You will never guess, Lieutenant, what crew is already here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains multiple explicit scenes.

Robert traced the back of his hand over the line of her spine.

"So, are you coming with me to this annual Halloween event?"

Almost six months had passed since they had returned to the future. They had tried several times to make the compass work, and after one unsuccessful attempt too many, they ended up getting drunk and hooking up. An angry one-night stand had turned into a regular thing, and they kept having casual sex ever since. It worked well for both of them. Although Robert knew that River's heart belonged to someone else, he fancied their passionate encounters. He also took pleasure in showing her off in public at boring Columbia events. Gorgeous, promising Broadway actress at his side made all his male faculty colleagues staring with envy, drooling over her ass behind their backs. He was sure they were jerking off to her too, and it flattered him.

"The Ivy Ligue lewd boys' club slumber party?"

Robert sniggered. He couldn't deny her the truth of that observation, even if he tried.

"More like St. A's, fancy drinks and secret societies, and the hot tub at the roof-top."

"Maybe" River yawned and stretched. Her lovely little bum grazed his groin, most likely not accidentally _._ He let out a raspy growl.

Robert was a skillful lover. It was not only his experience but also masterful techniques, and a great deal of self-control. Above all, he was paying attention to his partner, observing reactions and listening to words and moans. He satisfied her, and only a few lovers before him had achieved that.

His hand slid down her waistline in between her thighs. He knew well how she wanted to be touched. His fingers pressed softly through her folds, rubbing and circling around her sensitive opening. Robert smirked as it worked like a charm. She arched her back into him and spread her legs, allowing for bolder touch and more pressure. With a couple more firm strokes, he felt the delicate smell of her arousal and the slickness around his fingers. Her ragged panting, interrupted by an occasional soft moan and her body, blossoming with desire under his touch, didn't leave him indifferent. His own lust crawled down his loins, and his hardening cock demanded attention.

His hand lingered for a little while longer, pleasuring her, then he grabbed her hips and pulled her close to him. River gasped in a response to the interrupted caress, yet let him steer her to take the position he wanted. He drew her to hover over his groin _._ She smiled to herself; she moved slowly, letting him admire curving lines of her back, the cascade of the long hair falling over her shoulder-blades.

Robert lay back and enjoyed the show. She continued her lustful moves, rolling the hips and her rounded cheeks in an improvised lap dance. River heard his subtle growl of contentment as her palms entangled in her hair, lifting it all up, revealing her neck. Then she cast him a provoking look over her shoulder and winked. Her locks fell down like a waterfall once she turned her head again. The subtle rustling of the condom wrapper behind her caused her stomach to clench with anticipation.

Following his firm lead, she lowered herself down onto him, and he entered her with his shaft. She rode him with relaxed, long movements, flexing her muscles, finding the perfect angle and rhythm so his cock could hit her most sensitive spot. His palms squeezed her smooth butt. She leaned forward to stroke the base of his girth.

Robert growled. She grinned at him, and continuing her ride, asked with a throaty voice:

"Is this good? Is this how you want it?"

In response, his hands tightened on her ass. His firm grip led her to build up the speed of the rocking movement, pressing her hard against him. She resisted the change of pace, and they shared a laugh. The subtle struggle for control, gentle fighting for the power was what both of them liked, what excited them both.

Robert reached around her waist, his fingers delved into the moist warmth between her thighs. The intensity of his caress caused her to increase the velocity as he wanted. She was losing the regular rhythm as the heat of ultimate pleasure crawled upon the junction of her legs.

"This is how I want it," he grunted, barely capable of making a sound. Frenzy sensation overwhelmed his loins. He knew he couldn't hold off for much longer.

He thrust upwards, and she changed her movements into a rolling pattern. Robert didn't stop his thrusts, neither the steady pressure on her throbbing clit, while his arm came over her chest, pulling her close. Their bodies, now pressed together, were glistening with sweat. He palmed her breast, fondling her sensitive nipple until she whined. The pulsating warm contraction around his cock followed, and the sound of her submissive moan and the sight of her exhausted body in his arms were enough for him to orgasm violently.

They kissed, and he smoothed her disheveled hair.

River slowly raised herself from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. He heard the water running, and then her voice cut out through the noise.

"About that hot tub,… I think I may say yes to it."

"Halloween costumes mandatory," he shouted back at her.

He could hear the water splashed on the tiled shower pan and a cloud of steam, scented with his men's shower gel, entered through the half-opened door. Robert smirked under his nose. She was such a tease.

He reached to the drawer of his nightstand and took out an object enveloped in the thick black velvet.

"You are not suggesting that we go as…?" River sounded muffled by the running water.

He held the package in his palm and unwound the canvass with care. His eyes glistened at the view of a golden, adorned compass.

"And what do you think?" He snorted, amused.

* * *

A yellow cab stopped in front of the Saint Anthony Hall. The tall Beaux-Arts building, belonging to the Columbia's famous secret society of the same name, illuminated only by the scarce streetlight, looked ominous, murky shadows dancing in the drizzling rain over its ornate six-story facade.

Robert got out of the cab and offered his hand to help River out. She smiled at his chivalrous behavior. They stood for a long moment at the sidewalk, taking the details of each other pirate clothes in. They looked exactly like they remembered, like the damn portal had never pulled them back to the future. She reached to untangle the golden chain around his neck, grazing his skin accidently. Her hand slid down to his collar, and the sleeve of his jacket, the touch and the smell of leather reminding her of Edward, and Robert caught the sudden glimpse of sadness in her eyes. He sighed almost imperceptibly.

"Shall we," he offered her his arm, and they climbed the stairs leading to the entrance.

Robert pressed the front doorbell, and the door opened with a creek, the young man recognizing him immediately, admiring look in his eyes and let them in with the appreciative nod. They entered a long, dimly lit foyer, leading to stone steps at the end.

"These lead to the three residential floors," Robert assumed the obvious role of the guide. River thought it was funny, but sexy at the same time.

"And the hot tub at the roof-top," she added.

Robert sighed.

"I think I would rather show you another, more private place," he winked at her, "but first, let's mingle a little."

His hand pressed the small of her back gently, guiding her towards the tall, double glazed doors leading to the billiards room. Elegantly furnished with vintage leather couches, antique billiard tables, all lit with green lampshades, the space was relatively empty, only a couple of guests around, smoking and staring at each other. Everybody seemed to know Robert, nodding politely at their sight.

"Are you like a celebrity here?" River whispered when he guided her further into the room.

"Well, they might be just staring at you," he answered teasingly, "let's get some drinks."

"You didn't answer my question," she insisted, when they entered another, a much bigger room that seemed more like a ballroom, with crystal chandelier lighting the cream walls with white crown molding, the same leather couches under the walls, and a grand piano.

There was a fully stocked bar on the other side of the room and another open door to what seemed to be a library. There was soft music playing, but the entire atmosphere was sleepy. People with uncreative disguises, mostly cheap versions on Venetian masks, lazily moving around, or just sitting on the couches, or standing and drinking.

"That looks like one hell of the party," she commented again. Robert smirked.

"That's how the invitation-only parties of St. A's look like; fancy booze, some drugs, but secret societies based on wealth, are boring," he lowered his voice as they approached the bar. "Most of the guests will probably pass out soon enough."

"St. A's like St. Assholes?"

"I see you are familiar with the nicknames," he waved at the bartender and asked for two Havana Club Máximo Extra Añejo, straight. "I found that drink fitting, given our circumstances."

He handed her the glass. She took a sip; it tasted a little like chocolate, a bit like smoked oak, and a bit like coconut. The savor of rum on her tongue felt nostalgic.

"You didn't answer my question," River repeated.

"About Saint Anthony and me?" he hesitated, "it's in my genes. I am like an 8th member of my family, several generations back."

She looked at him for a moment, studying his face with curiosity.

"And you changed all that for...?" she didn't finish, but they both knew what she was asking about.

He didn't answer. A weighty object in his pocket reminded him of what he came here to do. He downed his drink.

"Come, I want to show you something."

"The hot-tub? Finally. This party is really boring."

"Not exactly, but I think you might enjoy a change of the location."

His fingers entangled through hers, while he led her towards the library. She squeezed his hand in response. They crossed the library and reached the adjoining small office. River looked around, but the room was dim, lit with small wall lamps. Similar to the rest of the hall, the furniture here was scarce, a brown wooden desk and office chair, some bookshelves and cabinets, but some green painted walls were empty. Robert locked the door carefully with a key and immediately felt her hands pulling the collar of his leather jacket close.

"So you want to make out here," he felt her hot, rum scented breath on his lips. He answered her, claiming her mouth with a searing kiss, his tongue impatient and strong.

Robert pushed her into the hard wall, his hands immediately finding the way under her tight pirate disguise. If things would work out like he hoped they would, it could be his last chance to have sex with her. River purred as his fingers toyed with the sensitive spot between her thighs, his other hand closing around her breast and his mouth gently sucking at her collarbones, leaving bite marks. He knew how to make her melt against him.

Without stopping his fingers rubbing against her clit, hard and gleaming now, he freed one of her breasts, so his lips could taste velvet, erect nipple. His tongue flickered around it, and then he sucked on it, leaving her breathless. He bit and kissed the supple skin around it, her moans growing louder, her hands entangled in his dark hair pressing him against her chest.

He pinned her harder to the wall, his bulging erection pressing him towards the release. But he had other plans. If this was going to be their last time, he wanted her to remember him. He was fingering her now, fast and rough, her hips thrusting against his palm.

"Robert… I," River whined as she came suddenly, shaking, clenching violently against his fingers, warm liquid soaking through her pants and his palm. He sucked hard on her breast, leaving another dark bite mark close to her nipple.

She was still trembling when with one swift move he tore her pants down and hooked her thigh around his waist. Impatiently, he unfastened his belt buckle, freeing his rock-hard cock, and sank into her wet, widespread folds desperately. He felt her hot, tight walls around him, the length of him rubbing against them with every move, as he slid in and out of her. He closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of their bodies guide him. He pressed her closer to him, his hands squeezing and spreading her ass. He slid his palm, still slick with her juices, in between her cheeks, searching for her firm entrance.

His fingers circled around the rim, pressing around it gently, warming it up, his hips' thrusts growing harder and faster. She gasped when his finger slid inside her from behind, moving with the same rhythm as his loins. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close, her panting interrupted by a muffled whisper:

"Ooh, my god…"

She swallowed hard, as Robert slid a second finger in, and sudden heat flooded her body, with the pressure of the double penetration, along with every violent thrust and long stroke. She was close to the orgasm again, and he felt it, her walls wrapped around his shaft throbbing hard again. He rolled his hips now with every thrust to fill her up totally, to touch every inch of her with his pulsating cock, her opening expanding and clenching around him. They came almost simultaneously, pleasure overwhelming them, both crying out, River with a soft whine, and Robert with a hoarse grunt.

He had to catch her weak body when they finally caught their breaths. He looked in her eyes and kissed her, his lips tasting hers with unexpected tenderness. His tongue danced with hers slowly and gently for a long time, longer than usual, but if this was really their last time, he didn't care anymore.

"I believe now would be a great time to check something else out," he finally broke the kiss and looked at her surprised face.

He moved to one of the bookshelves and applied some pressure. To her surprise, it turned out to be a secret panel, hiding a staircase leading downstairs.

"Oh, now it gets exciting," she whispered intrigued, "secret societies are hiding secrets. Is this the basement where you keep your Asian slaves?"

"I see again you are well acquainted with the rumors about St. A's," he smirked, "shall we?"

He offered her his hand, leading her down the steep stairs.

Once they entered the cold, damp crypt, Robert took out the object wrapped up in black velvet out of his pocket. She raised her eyebrows, recognizing the shape of it. He unwrapped it but didn't touch the compass with his bare hands.

"St. Anthony's basement crypt supposedly has some mysterious properties, I thought we could give it a try," he observed her reaction. River didn't look convinced though.

"Maybe, I don't think it will work though."

There was some kind of sad resignation in her voice, and Robert hesitated if he really wanted to put her through disappointment again. It would be convenient for him too, as he could keep her to himself. But he hated his current, privileged but boring academic life at Columbia, and missed the freedom of open seas and the thrill of piracy. Not to mention, that he would have never forgiven himself if he had wasted the chance for her to reunite with men she loved and make her happy.

He grabbed her palm firmly and squeeze it.

"Come on! Just for the Halloween fun."

Their entwined hands hovered over the compass for a moment, the compass somehow called to them. Then they touched it together. They felt the inexorable pull, and the blind light sucked them into oblivion, sweeping them through time and space….


	3. Chapter 3

A gentle, stray sunbeam cut through a slit in a torn canvass roof of Oliver's tent and brightened his face with a warm sensation. He basked in the bright rays for a long moment with his eyes closed. These were long days of rains and thunderstorms, and the humidity didn't help his convalescence. Oliver was still weak, but a chance to experience some fresh air and sun tempted him too much. Stretching his legs at least a little would definitely help him. He was convinced the sooner he tried to regain his former strength, the better.

As soon as one of his officers showed up within his sight, he propped himself up on his elbows as he called his Master of Arms.

"Mr Doyle, please help me get out of here."

"But Lieutenant, you still can't walk well on your own," Doyle intended to protest his superior's demand, but Oliver was stubborn enough, and already lifting himself, not listening to his officer.

"Mr Doyle!" he barked and tried to stand up on his own. His muscles didn't listen to his will, and he grabbed Doyle's arm at the last moment before falling down.

"All right, all right…," the Master of Arms was not happy, but Oliver was headstrong, and he made his mind already. He was going to take that walk, even if it killed him.

Doyle sighed and helped Oliver to stand up, supporting him with an arm placed around his waist, the lieutenant arm wrapped around his shoulder. Slowly, they made their way from the camp to the beach, through the dunes. The sand was not making it easier, and Oliver made every step with great difficulty, yet he didn't let go, pushing his way through his own weakness.

They got to the beach where the Intrepid was heaved along with the pirate sloop for bottom scraping and repairs, both crews swarming around them.

"Mr Doyle, let us have a closer look," Oliver ordered, and they both, limping out, got closer to the ships.

Oliver's attention was drawn towards the pirate captain. Edward was high at the hull of the sloop, shirtless, his sculpted chest and well-defined abs glistened in the sunlight. Oliver's eyes fixed, however, at the broad, fresh-looking scar on Edward's shoulder. He swallowed hard but hoped Doyle didn't pay any attention to this involuntary reaction. The scar on the pirate chest was of his own doing; a reminder of their fight, his father's chase after the pirates, and questionable acts Oliver committed pursuing Mortemer. River was an important part of that history too, and both the fact that he had hurt her back then and the thought of her mysterious vanishing, weighed him down.

He got lost in his train of thoughts, and he didn't notice Edward gracefully jumping from the hull of the heaved ship, and now standing in front of him, his bare chest inches away, with a cocky smirk on his face.

"Lieutenant, good to see you walking again," there was a sincerity Oliver didn't expect in Edward's voice, "have you come here to oversee our work?"

"I trust you and the crews. Just taking a walk. If you are up to it, you can join me, Captain," he blurted out without thinking.

"I can take it from here," Edward grunted at Doyle and nodded to Oliver.

The pirate grabbed his shirt and threw it on before switching positions with the Master of Arms. He gently supported Oliver. They hobbled along the beach in comfortable silence. They ambled along the tide-line, and once the sandy beach became stippled with limestone rocky formation and they put enough of the distance between them and the ship, Oliver asked.

"So this is the place where you hide to divide your plunder?"

"One of many, there are hundreds of little anchorages like these all over the Caribbean, Lieutenant."

"I can see how the conditions are favourable for your profession," Oliver commented, casting a side glance at the pirate, but Edward didn't react, focused on steering them both through the rocky part of the beach.

The white sands gave place to the reef limestone terrace, with an uneven, sometimes sharp surface, that made the walk a struggle for him, and he stumbled twice, Edward's muscular arm kept him safe every time.

"Are you sure you can still walk? You took quite a beating out there, maybe we should rest and head back to the camp," Edward commented.

"I am fine," Oliver greeted his teeth, not sure if he was still doing it to fight his own weakness, or just didn't want to admit the defeat to his companion. Edward observed him for a moment, his head cocked to a side and eye-brows creased slightly.

"It was very brave of you, Lieutenant. I have learnt from your officers, that it looked dare. It took the courage to do what you did," he paused, Oliver noticed another side look the pirate captain shoot him, "or a will to sacrifice yourself."

"Like you would not do that, Captain," Oliver scoffed.

"I would, you are right," Edward's voice was raspy but somehow soft, "we are much alike, you and I. Once you lost everything, you can take a risk like that. I do understand that."

Both of them became silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Their heavy footsteps and the whistling of the onshore wind were the only sounds filling in the air. Suddenly the distant braying of the wild donkey cut through the surrounding stillness.

"A donkey? Here?" a surprised gasp got out of Oliver's throat, making Edward laugh.

"Wild donkeys _and_ goats," he laid stress on the word 'and', "we have planned a true roast for the Christmas dinner, Lieutenant."

"Christmas, right," with everything happening, Oliver lost track of time.

The sudden, powerful gust of wind brought in the first raindrops.

"Let's get back before we get caught in the rain," Edward shifted, correcting his grip over Oliver's waist. They slowly headed back to the camp.

"Do you…," Oliver unexpectedly asked Edward, "Do you think she will ever come back to us?"

The pirate took his time, watching the sky darkening with rain-clouds ahead of them before he spoke, his voice low and hoarse.

"I wish I knew what to answer to that. But we better find ourselves some shelter, we will not make it to the camp."

* * *

They got to the limestone formation that offered a shelter under a rocky overhang. Oliver's worsted navy coat was enough to keep the stinging rain from soaking through, but the shirt that Edward was wearing became drenched. The pirate helped Oliver settle in a comfortable position and support his back over the rock. He took his soaked shirt off and found a place next to Oliver, their arms touching each other. There was a sudden connection in this simple gesture, the warmth of being close to the only person who understood him and his pain, something he didn't experience since River disappeared.

He cast a glance in Edward's direction. And here it was again. The damn scar that would always be there to remind him of his lowest moment. He couldn't forgive himself that he took a chance that presented itself and played dirty against honour he claimed to have. He perfectly knew why he did it, he knew if he hadn't hurt Mortemer first he would have lost that duel. The pirate captain was more agile and skilled than him. Oliver would never admit it, but after all that time, Edward still intimidated him. And that scar, that he was not able to avert his eyes from, would now always remind him he won cheating.

"Lieutenant?" Edward's nut-brown, attentive eyes were fixed on his, trying to read his expression.

"I," Oliver hesitated as has realised his hand was reaching out to touch Edward's chest. He stopped himself at the very last moment, his palm hanging awkwardly above the pirate's shoulder, "I do apologise for that".

His last words sounded like a husky whisper. Edward didn't answer immediately, and Oliver heard the sped up breathing of the pirate. His palm was still hovering over Edward's shoulder. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he felt the need to touch him. His fingers skimmed over the mangled skin. It was rough and warm at the same time, but the touch of another man's flesh under his fingertips was nice. Edward's muscles twitched under his caress, and a shudder ran through his body. Oliver tried to judge if it was a shiver of disgust or pleasure, and the pirate didn't pull away from him, so his graze became a little bolder. As a response, he heard the low growl coming from the pirate's throat.

"I am a pirate, that is part of this life."

Oliver leaned in towards Edward. Their faces and bodies were now so close that they could feel each other's breaths.

"I know, yet still, my apologies," husky timbre of Oliver's voice caught up in his throat, once he realised the proximity of Edward's lips.

He shut his eyes and let the need to kiss the pirate overtake him; their mouths met, and it didn't matter anymore that around them the sky seemed to open and unleashed the worst thunderstorm of the season. All he could focus on was the stiff brush of Edward's stubble over his own and the firm yet gentle pressure of the pirate's lips against his. It was just bliss, and it was soon but over, and when they broke apart, he met the surprised, sparkling eyes of the pirate. He would have sworn there was a hint of a smile hiding deep down in Edward's gaze.

They almost leaned in to share another kiss, when the massive bolt of lightning hit nearby, and blinding brightness came over everything. Then they heard a resounding thunder. Then it went back to normal.

Well, not exactly. Right in front of them, there were now River and Robert, with their palms enlaced, completely dazed from the time travel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter mentioned 1647-1714 ban on Christmas (and other religious festivities) issued by the British Parliament under the influence of Puritan values, the position attributed to Cromwell himself.
> 
> Honorable mention to the “Feeding Nelson’s Navy” by Janet MacDonald for great insight into the food and the drink aspect of the life at the ships.

"Is this real? Robert?" River's fingers tightened desperately around Robert's, and he circled his thumb soothingly over her knuckles; a slight gesture that didn't escape anybody's attention.

"I think it is, River. It worked this time," he turned to her and run his palm over her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he couldn't help but smirk.

"River?" Edward and Oliver sounded almost in unison like it would even be possible to tune in the deep growl of the grumpy pirate with a hoarse timbre of the naval lieutenant. The presence of newly arrived made them rise to their feet.

"Edward?" River reached her shaking hand towards the pirate. She pulled him in, her hand checking if the tout nape of his neck felt real, "why are you shirtless?"

"The rain," he grunted, leaning in for a kiss, but she was already touching Oliver.

"Hello soldier," she purred into Oliver's ear, her lips grazing his chin.

She turned back to Edward, falling into his embrace again and letting him hug her. Behind her back, Robert growled.

"What are you doing anyway, so cosy, gentlemen?" Robert assessed the situation quickly. A lot must have had happened while they were gone, but taken his current involvement with River, that didn't really surprise him.

"Just taking some time to recuperate," Oliver barked in his direction.

"Recuperate, Oliver?!" the phrase caught River's attention, and she sounded worried, "what the hell has happened to you?"

"He almost died, Ms Highridge," Edward said with no hint of emotion, "in a storm the Intrepid got caught in."

"What?! How are you doing? Are you all right?... Oh my god, Oliver," her hands skimmed over Oliver's arms and chest, "my sweet navy lieutenant, I hope you still have some strength in you, you will need it." She winked at him seductively, and Oliver's cheeks turned red.

Back in the future, she didn't talk much about Edward and Oliver, but Robert knew some things. Edward was her saviour, and she was his. It was all about the captain being her romantic fantasy, her perfect pirate gentleman, her version of a knight on a white horse. Robert knew this from the start, and he wanted her to have it. Oliver however, Oliver was all about sex for her, about seduction and desire, and about the thrill of forbidden romance. Robert felt the sting of jealousy at the way she straightforwardly flirted with the navie. He knew once they returned to the past, she would be back with her lovers, yet he couldn't help it.

Edward and Oliver exchanged glances.

"And how you two got here?" Edward asked.

"It's a long story," Robert growled, but River cut in.

"We tried for so long. I have already lost hope," she lifted her head from the shelter of Edward's chest, where she settled, his shoulder now wrapped tightly around her. Her voice was soft and quivering, but after these six long months, Robert knew she could sound anything she wanted on a whim. She could cry on demand and it looked real.

"I thought I would never be back here," she sighed and leaned on Edward's chest again.

"And you, how are you here?" Oliver looked at Robert. They just knew each other with the Admiral's son only briefly, _a_ nd Robert always suspected the cautious curiosity was mutual.

"We met in the future. Our interests aligned," Robert squinted his eyes. He knew it sounded innocent enough for both men, but that River would pick up on the subtlety of the double meaning, "does not matter anymore, since we are back."

He instinctively assessed the situation in case something went wrong and they decided to confront him about the events that happened just before he got sucked back into the future. Edward was armed, so was Robert and River. She had a toy replica of his old sword, so he didn't count that. She was not a threat to him, anyway. Cochrane's son was not carrying any weapon. It was probably because of his health state, but Robert was dumbfounded by the fact the navie trusted Edward so much and just walked around with the pirates not carrying even a dagger. That made things more balanced for him. River wouldn't have noticed, but the cutlass he carried was real, not the fake costume one, exactly as he planned the whole thing. Now the steel at his hip made him comfortable.

Robert looked around. The thunderstorm calmed down, and the rain got softer; the drizzling would soon stop completely, so they could get out of the shelter. He recognised the island; he knew la Blanquilla well, in fact, it was him who had shown Edward this hideout in the past. It would be exactly the place to choose to careen a new ship, and he assumed that Mortemer would have already seized one. What was the Navy doing here was another question, and he needed to get to the bottom of this, but slowly, in a diplomatic way. That would mean, however, that the Damnation was somewhere else. He expected Octavia to keep track of Edward's moves, he just needed a way to get to his crew. And a way to get this cocky, sensual girl out of his head. He sighed.

"I see it is not raining anymore," Edward noticed, and turned to Oliver, "let's get you back to the camp."

He paused, his eyebrows tight together, his expression serious when he looked straight at Robert.

"Tis' a very small island. And it is Christmas. Come with us."

* * *

The sun had already set, and the sky got painted with the shades of indigo blue, letting some coy stars and the moon shine through the billowed clouds when they got to the camp.

"I need to confess that I ordered your first Mate to let us use your Sunday porcelain and silverware. Along with mine, it would be enough for everybody to celebrate the Christmas dinner," Edward turned to Oliver.

"My personal collection of china?" Oliver gasped, but he composed himself. Robert noticed that River, supporting him on the other side now too, elbowed the navie.

"Just for the Christmas, Lieutenant," Edward seemed amused by the sudden protest of Oliver, and Robert thought about all the class difference separating the two, and how it showed off now.

The camp seemed to be ready for the Christmas dinner. Long wooden tables were set up under the canopy made of the sail canvas and covered with a relatively clean tablecloth. Elegant, high-quality glasses, porcelain and silver cutlery set up upon it, and a silver teapot and cream jug placed strategically in the middle. Some hot main and corner cold dishes were already arranged symmetrically, exactly as Henry planned it. Kissing boughs braided from local plants: guaiac wood, cat's claw acacia, tamarind, and coconut tree's flowers were hanging decoratively above the table, all lightened by the candles and kerosene lanterns. Robert watched hypnotised River's face, taking it all in, when she whispered:

"Oh my, it is so beautiful, Edward."

"River!", high-pitched shriek cut through the air, and Ginny ran straight into River's arms, "you are back, that is the best…".

The small girl didn't finish her sentence, as she buried her tiny body into River's embrace. They hugged and laughed and hugged again. Charlie followed Ginny in welcoming River. The two shared a long hug. Then Charlie turned to Robert, and he squirmed under her attentive gaze. He wished he could talk to her about everything that happened, the mutiny and the betrayal with the compass. She was still like a daughter to him, and he hated they grew apart.

"Charlie…"

"Robert? Why? And how?" he could sense the tension of a grudge Charlie still definitely held against him, "don't think ye will get out if this so easy, but come here ye old oaf. 'Tis Christmas time."

Robert felt the warmth of Charlie's arms around him and awkwardly leaned into a hug.

"I promise, we will find time to talk."

"Hello, how I missed you lass," the next person to greet them was Kendrick, appearing suddenly in the back, and the rest of Edward's crew followed through with giving a warm welcome to River, and then a bit more reserved one to Robert. Oliver nodded to his officers and crew and they joined in the greeting's ceremony. The last person showing up was Henry, carrying a roasted goat dish. He placed it in the middle of the festive tables, before approaching River with a huge grin.

"Welcome back! Ready to try some of my newest inventions?" he winked at her, pointing at the table covered generously with the variety of different Christmas dishes, "we have a three-decked sea-pie, a roast, a goat marinated in wine and vinegar served in a rich gravy under a pie crust, a ham, some boiled birds. Here we have fish preserved in vinegar, nutmeg, mace, and salt. And some side vegetables. And here it is a tamarind puree, I made it from the fruits of a local tree, you have to try it."

Henry looked proud explaining the dishes to River, and Robert smirked, reminded that she was the only one who showed interest in the cook's passion and not criticising his cooking, like the rest of the crew.

"And for the desert, we will have plum pudding. Edward wanted to have a real Christmas pudding," Henry ended his presentation with a joyful sigh, "the only thing we miss is the Wassail bowl, but we are pirates, we drink rum."

"That looks delicious, Henry, I can't wait to taste it all," River cast him a sweet smile before turning back to Edward and Oliver.

"That is amazing, so considerate thing to do for your crews."

"That was all Edward," Oliver admitted, "I had no idea it was all planned."

"I wanted to have a proper celebration since my crew has mixed origins. And it has been only a couple of years since it is not banned, anymore. I hope we are not offending you, Lieutenant?"

"No, I am not one of the Puritans, if this is what you mean. I just haven't thought about it, all things considered."

"Oh, and one more thing. We might have raided your personal storeroom for some wine. Nice Bordeaux you hid in there," Edward informed Oliver just before they got to the table. The three of them stopped for the moment at the head of it until the pirate added:

"The head of the table, it is yours, Lieutenant," Edward moved to take the place on the right-hand side of Oliver. River took the place on his left.

Once everybody settled, Oliver lifted with slight help from the pirate captain and raised his glass of wine.

"God rest ye merry, Ladies and Gentlemen."

When he sat comfortably back in his seat, River leaned over the table and lowered her voice for Edward and Oliver only, but Robert still overheard it.

"I can't wait to kiss you both underneath it," she pointed on the kissing boughs and cast them a sweet, seductive smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains an explicit scene.

Once dinner was over, and they cleaned out the tables, the party moved to gather around the enormous campfire. They placed a big palm tree trunk, to honour the tradition of burning the Yule log in the middle. Rum got passed around among the people, and the general feeling of joy spread among them. They were careless and friendly, and Oliver observed how both of the crews mixed and bonded in a festive atmosphere. The twins, Ada in particular, were charming his officers; sleepy Ginny, yawning, leaned over Jonas' shoulder and Maggie and Kendrick discussed something with hushed voices, but gesticulating heavily. Robert sat alone on the other side, but soon enough Charlie joined him and passed him the bottle of rum without saying a word. Some people were missing from the company at the fire, and he wondered where they were.

Namely, his eyes searched for River. She stood under the canopy close to the tables, watching the people around the fireplace from a slight distance. Shiny eyes and pink flushed cheeks, her hair braided now in a loose side ponytail, and he admired all of her beauty. Her being back felt too unreal; it was only several hours since she and Robert appeared in front of them. Oliver still didn't process it, but he couldn't help but wonder if this was the same person who left them. He noticed slight gestures between her and Robert and was trying to wrap his mind around it. However, his pulse sped up, and the warmth built up in his loins in her presence like before, so he ignored his doubts and followed his yearning.

He came up to her and his fingers went immediately to the small of her back, making small circles and putting some pressure onto it, like he knew she liked. She leaned into his embrace, letting out a warm gasp.

"Is that the right time to take you up on your earlier suggestion?" his eyes pointed towards the kissing bough they were standing under, the huskiness of his voice grazing her neck. His chest pressed into her back from behind.

"Can't wait for you to do it," River whispered and turned her face towards him.

"Can't you?" his breath caught in his throat, and his mouth captured her plump upper lip, and sucked on it. She responded with the same caress. He had missed the sweet taste and the soft texture of her lips, and couldn't stop himself from deepening the kiss. His hands went to her waist and pulled her towards his groin, eliciting a soft purr from her when the lower parts of their bodies met. He deepened the kiss, tilting her head for better access. It took a lot of his self-control to keep his tongue to himself, but he wanted to take it as slowly as their craving bodies would allow. When the kiss was over, he looked into her glassy, dreamy eyes.

"Do you think the two of us could continue that later tonight?"

"I am thinking about the three of us... loverboy," her breathless, sensual murmur sent the anticipation jolt down his spine. He was still thinking about the gentle kiss they shared with Edward, and he was eager to follow River's plan if she wanted to take their three-way relationship to a new level.

"There is someone who missed you, Ms Highridge," Edward's low voice sounded behind them, and both of them turned. Polly, the parrot, settled comfortably on his shoulder.

"River's back! River's back! Squaakk!" Polly chirped in, took off, and circled happily above their heads.

"Polly! Come here, pretty girl!" River's face brightened at the sight of the bird and the parrot alit on her shoulder.

"River went missing! River went missing!" Polly repeated as River petted her on the head, and the bird preened under her touch.

"I am back, Polly, it's all right."

"It's all right! It's all right! Graaak!" Polly kept chiming in.

"I think she has made a couple of friends here. La Blanquilla is home to many parrot species, and she has been quite adventurous," Edward's mouth creased into a smirk.

"Thank you for taking care of her," River's palm skimmed over Edward's unshaven cheek. Her thumb grazed the corner of his mouth, before leaning in and claiming his lips in a quick kiss.  
  


Oliver watched them kiss, and couldn't stop thinking about the taste of both of them. Another shiver ran along his spine, building up in his groin. Then he felt River's hold on his arm.

"Let us take this someplace else. Your tent," she said to Edward, then she turned her breathy, vibrating with emotions voice to Oliver, "or yours, you choose..."

"Polly, stay with Maggie."

River grabbed both Edward's and Oliver's wrists and lead them to the camp.

* * *

They opted for Oliver's tent, more comfortable with all the navy amenities carried from the Intrepid to the camp.

"So how.... do you want...?" Oliver asked. Both he and Edward suddenly became hesitant.

"Shh..." River pressed her finger to his lips, then stroked his arm, reaching at the same time to squeeze Edward's palm and pulling him towards her _._

The three of them were now impossibly close, the heat of their bodies and the sped up panting mixing. River's hand run through Oliver's hair, letting it fall down loosely, and she twisted blond strands around her fingers. She lowered her head and run her tongue just below Edward's earlobe. Oliver leaned in towards River’s chest and sucked at the hollow of her neck. He pushed the two of them gently towards his bed, and she let a purr of excitement escape her mouth.

They fell smoothly into his sheets, River snuggled in the centre, in between both men. Oliver sneaked his fingers around her nape, and he lowered his head to kiss her jaw. On her other side, Edward traced his lips along her collarbone. Both of them kissed, nibbled, caressed the length of her neck. Every time a tongue touched her skin, the spark ran through her body, and breathing got caught deeper and deeper in her throat. She closed her eyes and there were only soft mouths, insisting tongues and scraping teeth on her jaw and neck, all sensations overwhelming, and she couldn't help but let out a desperate moan.

"More..."

It was the only encouragement they needed. There were now also hands all over her upper body, sneaking in under her clothes, then ripping them off. Strong fingers grazing her flat stomach, palms fondling her breasts, and tongues flicking around her nipples. She could no longer tell both men apart. All there was the intensity of their caress, and pulsing, dripping sensation growing in-between her thighs, as she moaned and wriggled beneath their touch.

Someone's palm sneaked down her waist, finding its way between her folds. Gentle fingertips rubbed her throbbing clit, and she opened her eyes as a sharp wave ran through her body. The hand pleasuring her belonged to Oliver, but both men focused on devouring the smooth skin of her stomach, their mouths close to her navel and to each other. River enlaced the fingers of her right hand around the base of Edward's neck and grabbed a fistful of Oliver's hair with the left. She tenderly tugged them together.

"I want to see you kiss... please," she pleaded and inhaled deeply, trying to steady her breath, but it was too late for that.

They didn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She watched as their mouths met, releasing the pent-up desire they held from earlier. The muscles of their necks were straining and flexing with every move of their tongues fighting for domination. As Edward grabbed the back of Oliver's head to press his face to his, and Oliver's hand tightened around the pirate bicep, River couldn't help her finger sliding in to touch herself exactly where Oliver fingered her before. Then she lifted herself and licking her lips, she got close to them and moaned.

"Let me in..."

Oliver pulled her in, making enough of space for her to join him in exploring Edward's lips. It was all about the three mouths connecting and three tongues gently stroking each other. Both men tasted and kissed differently; Oliver's kiss left a wet trail over her open lips, Edward's tongue was more insisting, sliding in and out of their mouths, and together they formed a perfect three-way kiss.

River's palms went under Oliver's shirt, stripping him out, and Oliver ripped Edward's shirt off. They took each other gorgeous bodies in. River's palms slid down both of the men's chests, pulling down their pants and reaching for their cocks. Then she stroke both of them, and they both groaned simultaneously; her stomach clenched in anticipation at the very sound of them.

Edward pushed River back at the pillows, positioning himself in front of her; Oliver pressed into her back, his teeth grazing her nape. There were again two pairs of hands on her, pinching her nipples, grazing her butt, forcing their way inside of the junction of her thighs. The pleasure was overwhelming her; keeping the speed of her strokes over two powerful cocks became an almost impossible task. Her head fell back once Oliver cupped his entire hand over her breasts and squeezed tightly, and Edward grabbed her wrists.

"Let it go," the menacing low growl from the depths of his throat made her stomach clenched, so she listened.

With a rogue spark in his eyes, he pinned her hands above her head. His body hovered over hers and he leaned in to kiss her feverishly. Oliver's tongue explored both holes between her legs, dipping in the tip of it just barely, and then flicking over her clit. Her eyes closed as she loved the sensation, and her hips lifted involuntarily and she rocked against him. The warm, pulsing sensation built up in her groin, and all she wanted was one of the rock-hard cocks to fill her in.

"Please, Edward..." she whimpered as she grasped at his forearm, digging her fingernails deep in his skin.

"Oliver..." Edward grunted.

As soon as Oliver shifted, kissing her hard nipples again, Edward lowered himself slowly into her. His firm grip on her wrists tightened even more. They moved together. Lazily deeply, her hips rolling in time to his thrusts. The entire weight of his body pressed into her tight entrance, his throbbing cock building up speed and splitting her open; sliding rhythmically in and out, glistening with her wetness.

"Oh, God," she whined, pulsing sensation between her legs promised a powerful release. In this exact moment, Oliver's fingers pressed against her slick, bold clit and it was the last impulse needed to send her over the edge.

Her heart was pounding hard, her walls clenched around Edward's shaft and while orgasm ripped through her body, she barely heard his low voice above.

"Come here, I want to taste her on you," Edward rasped, and the tone and the demand in his own voice caught him by surprise. But Oliver listened, his coarse lips crushed on Edward's in a blink of a second, his tongue tasting of River's salty wetness filling his mouth, while Edward's own cock, fully coated in her moisture, was slamming into her.

Edward opened his eyes and his gaze skimmed over Oliver's face; the naval lieutenant looked young, a bit childish, especially now with his eyes shut and focused frown on his forehead, fully invested in their kiss, moaning in his throat. River was whining next to their faces too, and he gripped her wrists even tighter, leaving bruises over her forearms, and thrust again and again. He lost control over his passion, and though he would probably be ashamed of himself when they wake up, he let go of months of loneliness, agony, and pain in this very moment.

The powerful wave of pleasure run through his body, and he came hard, collapsing on River's body, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She wrapped her hands around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Oliver settled behind her too, letting them have their moment. He licked his lips, and he felt a salty taste, much different from River's arousal before, on his tongue. He couldn't truly tell if this was the taste of the pirate's sweat or tears.

"Oliver?" River turned her head and whispered. Her fingers enlaced in Edward's hairs, stroking the pirate gently, "do you want to continue?"

"Do you?" He didn't have to ask. She shifted her butt towards him and bent the knee of her upper leg to give him better access.

"Are you… capable?" her gentle whisper warmed his chin. She sounded worried, but he was still rock hard, and they were comfortably lazy in his bed.

"Mhmm..." His palm entangled in the small tuft of her pubic hair and pulled her closer to his groin. The tip of his cock entered her gently, and his shaft followed. They started moving together. River let Oliver set up the pace.

"Edward?" She cupped the pirate face in her hand, and planted small kisses all over it, at his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. Oliver observed it from behind, his cock moving in and out of her. Then she leaned into Edward, kissing him hungrily and fully; her expert tongue exploring Edward's mouth, twirling around with his. Oliver watched them. Their kisses grew deeper with his every thrust, and the power of his loins increased with every sound that escaped their mouth.

His arm came around her to caress her breasts. Her nipples were hard again, aching under his touch. He rolled one between his fingers and she cried out, arching her back into him. Edward's lips moved to her throat, sucking and leaving love marks. Oliver's groin was grounding into her hard now, his cock twitching and throbbing deep inside of her. She came first. Her tight walls were suddenly even tighter around his cock, clenching and retreating, and then all he knew, he was coming too, pouring the last drop of his semen inside her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains an explicit scene.

The last day of the year started with no rain, and the sun casting its long, scorching rays over the beach. With little shade on the island, the heat became unbearable by noon, and Robert quickly discarded the idea of spending his time hiding from it with the rest of the crews in the crowded camp. Fortunately, he knew la Blanquilla well and followed the trail of a well-travelled donkey path to the inside of the island, to the parrot nesting area, where guaiac trees offered protective shadows.

Carefully avoiding the thorns of prickly pear cacti formations crawling everywhere, he made his way inland, a distant braying of the wild donkeys being his only company.

He reached the shaded grove of nine guaiac trees when he heard sudden footsteps, and a hand grabbed his wrist from behind. Next thing he knew, River pulled him towards the nearest tree trunk, her impatient hands working on unbuckling his belt.

"River?! What the hell are you doing?!"

Her sudden appearance and her insisting palms on his groin genuinely surprised him.

"Oh! Shut up, Robert!"

She groped his cock, and her obvious intentions were enough to change his mood.

He followed through, pressing her harder into the tree, his hands finding his way up under her clothes.

"Oh, my horny little girl."

Robert's palm squeezed her nipple, twisting it a little. He watched as River chewed on her lower lip in response to his caress, trying to contain her panting.

He knew she expected that would provoke him to elicit an uncontrolled cry out of her mouth. With his left hand still on her chest, his right palm pushed past her waistband, cupped her pubic mound, working his fingers between her folds. She parted her legs a little, and he stroked a fragile spot above her clit, slowly at first, then faster, until the fabric of her underwear got soaked. Suddenly, he pinched her nipple, and two muffled yips ripped out from her throat. Robert smirked with satisfaction. He won.

He flipped her over and continued rubbing her clit until it was subtly twitching beneath his fingers.

"Are your boyfriends not giving you what you need?" Robert rasped and tore down her pants and her underwear. He unbuckled his belt, freeing his cock. River watched over her shoulder as he palmed his thick length. With her, he didn’t need much to get hard and ready. She lifted her butt in the air, preparing to receive his cock inside of her.

"I am going to fuck you as you deserve it, my beautiful little girl," he grunted before forcing his shaft into her deeply. They both moaned as his thrusts plunged into her with growing speed.

Robert pulled River's hair until her back arched and held her tight against him. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled its subtle scent with desperation. What she did was unexpected, but he would not overthink it. He kept stroking her clit, until her walls were tightening and opening around him, throbbing and squeezing his cock.

They shifted and River bent over for better access. Robert admired her rounded, silky butt, and his palm, coated in her moisture, grazed over a sexy little birthmark on her left cheek. She shuddered under his touch. Then his long fingers massaged her puckered, pale butthole, probing it and penetrating just barely. His cock kept slamming into her as he pulled her cheeks apart, and swiftly pushed his thumb inside her little hole. An involuntary muscle spasm tightened around it, while she bucked and whined.

"Robert…oh, fuck…fuck me…there…" a drawn own groan escaped River's mouth, and her own palm slid to rub her pulsing clit. Robert growled. They had anal sex several times before, but the last thing he expected was for her to do it with him under Edward's and Oliver's noses. It was quite shocking, so he almost lost the rhythm of his thrusting hips and they both hissed.

"River?!!"

"Just, oof,... fucking do it!" he liked her bossy, yet pleading tone and the way she rubbed her butt against his groin.

He pulled out, and his bare tip pushed gently straight into her anal opening. Her thighs shook when he did it, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She was pleasurably tense around him, and all he longed for was to get even deeper inside of her.

"Harder..." her whining mixed with the sound she made while fingering herself and Robert felt an impossible throbbing in his balls.

He spread her butt wide open and shoved his length into her, watching as his cock penetrated into her tight pink hole. As he tugged her against his chest, sinking his shaft deeper in her butthole, his arm reached to grab her breasts and fondle them tightly. He increased the speed and sensed her clenching and expanding around him, and the first wave of upcoming release rolled through his cock.

"I'm going to come..." he breathed hastily into her neck, but there was only a muffled whine coming from her throat. The next thing he experienced was a powerful orgasm tearing through them both. He felt every pulse of pleasure shattering her body and an almost excruciating squeeze of her walls around him, pushing him and his seed out. 

* * *

Kendrick yawned and shifted his position on the limestone rock overlooking the beach and the dunes. His current assignment as a lookout seemed to drag on for hours under the burning heat of the afternoon sun. His gaze skimmed through the horizon again, and for a moment he was convinced he spotted barely visible sails.

 _Nah,_ he thought, _it had to be the blinding light. Sails here at this time of the year, it was almost impossible._

He looked again, and the faint shape was still there. Reluctantly, he pulled out a spyglass and cast a look. Now he clearly saw masts and sails.

“Sail Ho!” Kendrick whistled and hollered from his spot.

His shout raised the camp's attention, and within fifteen minutes, several members of the crews gathered at the beach watching the new ship, now visible with a naked eye. The vessel was clearly sailing towards them.

Edward peered through the spyglass, then passed it to Charlie and Oliver. A massive dark ship was approaching them with a stable speed.

“That’s the Damnation,” Charlie said, her eyebrows frowned, “What is Robert's crew doing here?”

“The better question is, where the hell is Robert?” Edward hesitated as there was no sign of his former first mate anywhere.

There was a moment of meaningful silence between them, while each of them processed the situation. Oliver was the first one to speak.

“And where is River?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonkunnu or Junkanoo is a Caribbean tradition celebrated on the English-speaking islands between Christmas and New Year's Day. It started as a slave's celebration consisting of masquerade parades, dancing, and partying. The name origin is still under debate, but it's often attributed to a slave hero John Canoe.
> 
> Charles Vane was a real pirate (also portrayed in the series Black Sails), a captain of the sloop Ranger mentioned in the first chapter. He also appears in my other fic "Uncharted Riptides".

“Edward… ” faint echo of Oliver’s voice got through the loud heartbeat throbbing in his ears, and the pounding of waves crashing on the beach. Far at the top of the dunes, among the high grasses and blooming opuntia, River’s fragile silhouette rose in afar as she approached them. An on-shore wind messed with her hair. She seemed so small and gentle, and he watched as her hands smoothed her dishevelled clothes.

His memories flashed in his head. Their first meeting when she was all lost on the Admiral ship; her heart hammering close to his when he saved her and swung them on board of Poseidon’s Revenge. Her straightforward way of flirting. And talking back at him.

 _I would have just slept with Edward to get his secret,_ followed by this little almost wink of her eye and a fluttering in his chest. River was unlike any woman he ever met, direct and gracious at the same time, different from the wenches in Port Royal or Nassau. The moment they shared in the crow’s nest; he was drawn to her, though he wouldn’t admit it. Their little back and forth. He pretended to be immune to her distraction, yet he was not. She got under his skin this first night, and didn’t matter how much he tried to fight it, he was losing it. He couldn’t but look at her when she wasn’t paying attention, but she caught him doing so. And the kiss they almost shared, tempting proximity of her lips. And then Robert…

A sudden wave of warmth flooded his body, and sweat broke out on his forehead. River reached the beach. Her hips swayed mildly as she strode through the sand. She smiled at him in that lazy and lascivious way.

He gritted his teeth and bolted in her direction. Oliver’s hand grazed the back of his coat, but he didn’t get a grip.

“Edward…” but the gust of wind and the thumping of Edward’s pulse in his ears swallowed Oliver’s words.

“Miss Highridge! care to explain what were you up to with Robert?!” his voice beamed over suddenly dead silent beach.

“Up to with Robert?…”

He didn’t let her finish.

“Do not lie to me!”

She took a step back. And now he saw her properly: her eyes widened, and the colour disappeared from her face. But he couldn’t help but notice a certain shine about her, a glow he saw so many times. And the smell that hit his nostrils, that subtle aroused scent, didn’t leave any doubts. His vision blurred and another heatwave ran through his torso.

“I…” her voice croaked, but Edward interrupted her again.

“And Robert, of all men?! Why?”

He realised his hands balled into fists.

“How could you?! He hated you, he almost killed you! Have you already forgotten your first days on Poseidon’s Revenge? All his plotting, the mutiny, and treacheries? Do I matter so little to you?”

_Was it really all it took for Robert to be from the future to relate to her? Something Edward would never be able to share with her?_

“Edward…”

She reached out towards him, and he stepped back. But then he felt a sudden rush of energy. He grabbed both of her forearms, pulling her close. Now their faces were just a breath apart. Her eyes shined with tears, just about to run down her cheeks, and her chin quivered.

“Don’t hurt me. Please…” she whispered.

“You have sworn to me, remember?”

His hands tightened around her forearms, against her plea, and silent tears were now trickling down her cheeks, “and yet you made a fool of me with Robert himself!”

“Edward, stop!”

Oliver’s voice cut through to him, as the heavy hand of the navie, who caught up to them, limping, dropped on his shoulder.

“You are hurting her.”

Edward let her go, and River ran to hide in Oliver’s arms, sobbing loudly. Edward looked helplessly in their direction. The rush of energy left him, and he suddenly was exhausted, letting go of the tension that piled up in him for the last months. Not for long, though.

Robert appeared on the beach, approaching the camp from a different direction. _Like it would fool anybody_ , Edward thought, and his blood boiled again. Suddenly, he felt stronger than usual, and the anger towards Robert rushed through his veins. _How could he have ever considered this traitor his friend? Was undermining him as a captain and the mutiny not enough for Robert? Did he really need to take the one thing, the love he shared with River, away from him?_

Edward observed Robert strolling along the tide line towards where the crews gathered. The hurt and grudge he held against this man were stronger than he would ever admit. He often regretted that he had let Robert go after the mutiny. And now River…. at the mere thought of it, at the images flooding his imagination, his chest tightened and caved in, and the muscles in his right arm quivered almost without his control.

And then… it was all a matter of seconds. Edward unsheathed his sword and lunged a powerful thrust towards unexpecting Robert, not leaving his opponent any time to draw his own weapon. The corner of his eye noticed a sudden movement, and a shadow jumped in front of his sharp blade.

“River, Nooo!”

He heard several voices yelling, but it was too late.

* * *

On the quarterdeck on the Damnation, Octavia pulled out the spyglass and looked at the approaching coast of La Blanquilla island. There were two hulls careened at the white sanded, gently sloping beach, and the smaller of the ships matched the description that she coaxed out of Charles Vane during their last encounter. The second one, which seemed like a frigate, looked familiar, but she didn’t recognise the vessel, not yet anyway. _Did Edward capture a second ship? Would Charlie get to captain on her own?_ It seemed like the most obvious explanation, and she didn’t consider it suspicious at all.

She smirked to herself at the memory of Vane. He was nothing more than a mean to an end, of course, but the night they spent together after the Jonkunnu masquerade parade in Port Royal on Christmas Day was worth it, even though they got wasted on cheap wine and dancing before. It did feel good, Vane liked it rough as did she, and it gave her the information about Mortemer plans and the hideout. She rarely used her charms like that, but as long as it granted her the power over men, she was happy with using her body like that. It took her years to fight her way as a woman into piracy, and once she succeeded she would not let it go.

Now she could focus on checking if Edward and Charlie made any progress on finding River, and convince them to join her in trying to get her and Robert back.

_Robert…_

She sighed at the thought of him. _What it would take for him to notice her as a woman?_ Octavia felt like she was a member of his crew forever, always thinking about him as a captain, even when they joined the crews and they voted Edward for the position. She stood by him through the mutiny and the tough times before they got the Damnation. She didn’t question his decision to make a deal with the Admiral, but she still remembered the disappointment that Robert didn’t let her know about his plans. Why he never let her as close to him as she wished for? They never shared even as much as a kiss, and she longed for it for a very long time. Maybe if she found him, it would change.

There was a pull in her stomach, a hunch that told her that getting Robert back was possible and that the opportunity was close.

She turned to a big, black bird, that used to be Robert's favourite pet, sitting on the rigging, swaying with its movement.

“We are getting our captain back! I promise.”

“Aye, my captain! Aye, my captain! Graaak!” The bird spread the wings and fluttered them energetically.

“Oh, shut up!”

She responded with a burst of melodic laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know: I still love Edward (the most) <3.
> 
> I wouldn’t be able to pull that off w/o fightwrite.net and piratesurgeon.com .

River squeezed her eyelids as much as she could. But then came nothing more than a sensation, like a gust of wind, like someone would slap her upper body; after it happened, she didn't feel anything at all. She slowly opened her eyes.

Edward's face, pale and terrified _,_ flashed for a second in front of her, and she followed his gaze. There was a thick red stain spreading over her white shirt just above her bust. When the realisation hit her, sudden pain slit her shoulder in half, and followed down, tearing through her chest.

"Oh, my god! Oh, my god!… O no, no, no! Oh god!" her hand clenched over her clothes, as blood soaked through them, staining her fingers. Her breathing sped up, "Did you just stab me?"

"River, I...am sorry," Edward tried to reach for her, but a cold thrill swept over her body and her knees were giving up on her.

"Leave me alone! Oh my god, no, no! Oh my god... I am going to throw up!"

River fell to her knees, still whining, but her voice was fainting. Before Edward got to her, a heavy punch of Robert's sturdy fist met his jaw, and he stumbled several steps backward.

"Listen to her for once Mortemer!" She heard Robert barking in Edward's direction, "stay the hell away!"

She tried to tell Edward something, but her view got blocked by Oliver's face, who examined her wound.

"Shh, River, it's all right," he said, his voice sounded calm and soothing. He leaned into her, his warmth and familiar scent enveloped her, and she held to it although her stomach churned violently again, and her head got dizzy.

"Did I ..." her voice broke, as her body started trembling, ".. get... stabbed?"

"It is ok, River," Oliver's fingers were gentle on her neck and over her shoulder, "it is just a cut, a slash. He did not stab you."

He paused for a moment.

"He didn't mean to, you know that, right?" His palm tucked the strands of her blond hair behind her ear.

"I think..." River tried to grasp Oliver's arm, but she didn't have enough strength, and her fingers, suddenly numb, slid limply over his sleeve, "I think... I am going to be sick."

Her stomach clenched, and then it was all ringing in her ears and her vision went blurry. The last thing she heard was Oliver's voice, "let's take you to the camp and get you tended to", and someone's arms lifted her up.

* * *

Robert picked River's unconscious body up. She seemed to weigh almost nothing, and he couldn't but tenderly look over her pale face and clothes stained with blood. He sighed. It was Edward's audacity and the hot-headed attitude that brought on his crew nothing but misery and ruin. And again, it did. He hated Edward for it, now more than ever, as it did hurt River. How would she feel about Edward now? At least he had punched Edward, and that simple gesture brought him somewhat of satisfaction.

"Take her to my tent," Oliver said, "we need to tend to her wound as soon as possible."

"If Samuel is on board of the Damnation," added Charlie, supporting Oliver while they made their way to the camp, "we might be lucky to have a real surgeon helping her."

"We can not wait," said Oliver, "I do not want to risk waiting, we have to treat it now, my first Mate can help."

"I agree," Robert said, "we can't wait. I can do it, but you need to provide me with the surgeon's chest from one of the ships."

"We have one that my late medical officer has left on board of the Intrepid. I have it already in my tent."

Robert raised his eyebrows.

"Didn't he take it with him... when you," he paused, "when you decided to disobey your father's orders?"

"He was not the one who owed it, in the first place," said Oliver, without going into details, but Robert knew what it meant.

"Paying for your own medical instruments, Lieutenant? That's unorthodox."

"I believe that you are familiar with the conditions on the ships," Oliver hesitated for a moment, looking for a way to address Robert appropriately, "Captain, right?"

"That the Navy allowance for surgeon's equipment hardly suffices to provide adequate medical services to the crew on any ship?" Robert let out an annoyed snigger, "color me impressed then, Lieutenant, that's considerate of your side."

Oliver grunted something under his nose, but they made it to his tent, and Robert stopped paying attention, gently positioning River on the navie's bed. Then he looked around the neatly organised space. _Very naval-like_ , he thought, before turning his attention back to where River was laying, trying to contain the thoughts of her, Oliver, and Edward sharing the very same bed before they invaded his head.

Charlie left them alone, and Oliver rested at the foot of the bed, breathing heavily.

"You will find the surgeon's chest among the other ones, in the back."

"I have heard that you were quite brave during the storm," Robert said, diving in between of the officer's storage to look for the medical supplies.

"Any leader would do that for his people."

Robert considered something for a while then said, "you are not very much like your father, aren't you Lieutenant?"

Oliver snorted in response.

"I always thought I was exactly like my father. I guess life is full of surprises."

"I guess it is."

Robert found the surgeon's chest and prepared the instruments to start the procedure. He was not very experienced in medical treatments, but in the case of River, he preferred his even limited 21st-century knowledge over risking her life to the beliefs and procedures of 18th-century surgeons, especially regarding incision wounds. The instruments, needles, and suturing material looked decent, and he blessed the Admiral's son for his meticulosity. He cut through the soaked clothes, gently removing them from the wound.

It didn't look deep and long, and the incision was clean enough. Robert sighed with relief. With enough alcohol, he could keep it sterile. Hopefully, if sutured well, it wouldn't leave an immense scar. He opened the bottle of rum. _Let's fix the damage, little girl._ He thought about her breathtaking breasts and silk skin again.

"Are we not going to cauterise her wound?" Oliver asked him.

"Will you trust modern medicine and me, Lieutenant?"

It took a while before Oliver spoke again.

"You do care about her, don't you?" he asked.

"Aye," said Robert, "I do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains a graphic depiction of dead bodies.
> 
> The chapter uses fragments of chapter 15 of the original book, mostly part of the vision of the future from Edward's arc. Some original text (especially dialogue) has been used.

"Leave me alone!"

River's terrified shriek resounded in Edward's ears, along with his own heartbeat pounding wildly in his chest. His vision blurred, and a chill went through him. He had to run away. He couldn't stay there, no one wanted him there after what he did. He couldn't even look in the direction where Oliver and Robert leaned over River's body.

He fought the urge to throw up.

Then he just ran, not paying any attention to the direction he was heading. They wouldn't follow him. All that mattered in that moment was that he got out of their sight. No one would look for him, for a while at least. His palm tightened at the hilt of his sword, his fingers wrapped so tightly around it that his nails dug into his flesh.

The blazing heat of the sun scorched the island, but Edward kept running. His lungs were burning. Breathing got hard. Really hard. He stranded from the bitten path, his body brushing through prickly pear bush. He only noticed it when long spikes grabbed him and pierced through his leather jacket, stabbing him deeply. Edward hissed and yanked them off, but when the segment that stuck into his sleeve fell off, other barbed thorns caught him again. His sword sliced through the cacti bush with fury, chopping down prickly stems with abandon until he exhausted himself, breaking out into a sweat.

Through the blood thudding in his ears, he heard the waves crashing into a rocky shore, and with the last bit of his strength, he got to the sheltered cave under stony cliffs. He fell to his knees, hitting the wet sand. His stomach heaved, and he crumbled inside.

 _River, I will always put myself between you and the danger._ That was a lie. He couldn't even keep his own promise to her. He was a terrible and worthless person and he couldn't be trusted. He didn't deserve to be happy, he didn't deserve to be loved. He didn't deserve to be loved by her.

Edward cried, his chest growing tight as bile rose in his throat. A wave of nausea hit him and he threw up violently. He was hardly able to move anymore, all he wanted to do is curl up in shame and disappear.

* * *

_The sun first peeked over the distant horizon, cutting a red-gashing wound between the earth and the sky. The ocean stretched in front of Edward, waves crushed in afar and the wind breeze brought a familiar salty scent._

_"Tis' my favorite part," said Edward._

_"Mine too," River whispered in response._

_A bright burst of light suddenly pierced the dusky orange of the dawn. The clouds glowed and colours raced across the ocean. Gold, pink, blood-red, and the softest blue. Hypnotised, he watched the amazing spectacle of nature, revealing in front of them, in the soothing presence of River by his side. A child babble snapped him out from his daydream._

_"Mama! Papa! Look what I found!"_

_River cast Edward her sweetest, gentle smile_

_"Should we?"_

_"Give it a minute. He'll bring his prize over here if we let him," he said._

_"Edward, fatherhood suits you," said she, reaching out to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, her palm calm and warm, grazing gently across his stubble._

_"I don't think you have stopped smiling since his birth," her voice was tender._

_"How can I, when I see our son running around, a perfect blend of the two of us?" he smiled, planting a kiss inside of her palm._

_Edward wrapped his arm around her, trying to savour the quiet moment, but all of a sudden, he was holding nothing but thin air. He tried to pull River in again, but she was nowhere to be found._

_He looked around, terrified. Above him, dense layers of darkening clouds churned and tumbled through the crimson sky, but he could see neither her nor his son._

_"River, where are you?" he yelled desperately. There was no answer other than the sound of rolling waves._

_"River!"_

_Again, no response. His heart wrenched and an unsettling feeling crept into his soul. Desperate, he started running along the shore, yelling her name. He was running and running and it seemed like forever._

_And then he saw them._

_Two pale, motionless bodies, love of his life and his son, laying in the pools of blood, displaying already some lividity forming on their sides. He could see deep, mortal wounds. Injuries inflicted by a blade, he had no doubt about that. He tried to get closer, reached out for them..._

A violent shudder ran through his body waking him up. He didn't know how long he was lying there, on the wet sand, bathed in his sweat. The darkness wrapped tightly around the island, the cave, and him already. The reek of his own vomit hit his nose, and the convulsion torn through him, but he had nothing in his stomach to throw up anymore.

At least it was just a nightmare. But it should have been him. He should have suffered for all he did, for all the pain he had caused before and was causing to River now. It would have been better if he had been dead.

* * *

Oliver sat at the River's bedside and watched her while she was sleeping. Her incision was sutured and bandaged tightly, and he had to admit he admired the way Robert handled the entire procedure. He suspected she was still in pain, yet she looked peaceful, her beautiful eyes closed and her breath steady. An adorable single lost eyelash rested on her cheek and he fought the need to brush it off, so she wouldn't wake up.

God, he loved her. Before he had met her, he had his whole navy career, his entire life, the entire existence planned. And this girl, this woman, had shown him how small his world was. And she became his whole world. He hid his tired face in his palms. He couldn't believe he had lost her once, and now he almost lost her again. _We will find a way to make our future together, Oliver,_ her words from the times when they had been fighting his father resounded in his head. It was proving to be harder than he ever thought it could be. But he would not stop trying to fight for that future.

"Oliver..." he felt her fingers gently entangling through his hair and he raised his face. She was wide awake, her voice was weak and her skin was pale.

"River? How are you feeling?"

"I've been better, I think..." she whispered, "Edward? Robert?"

"Robert is in the camp. He sutured your wound," Oliver said, taking a breath before talking to her about Edward. Her eyes fixed on his intently.

"Edward ran away. We still need to find him."

Both of them sighed simultaneously, and a heavy silence fell between them.

"Will you?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, "Is he ... is he really mad at me?"

"I don't know, I don't think so," Oliver said, his fingertip touched her cheek and brushed the eyelash off, "I think he is very angry at himself now."

"God...," she said closing her eyes, her head leaned into her pillows, "I didn't mean any of that."

Oliver hesitated, then held her hand in his, and squeezed it gently, before asking a question.

"Then, my apologies, I have to ask... Robert? Why?"

"The damn thing was not working Oliver. I thought," she swallowed hard, her eyes got wet, "I thought it was the end, over, nothing left to fight for, no way back. And Robert, I don't know, he was like the only person who got that part of me, and ... initially, it was just an arrangement that worked. But it has been damn six months, Oliver."

"I...I do understand that," Oliver said, thinking about the kiss they had shared with Edward before River and Robert had shown up, "but, what I don't understand....you are back now. Why? The three of us have just..."

River kept quiet for a while, and Oliver's watched creasing wrinkles at her pensive forehead.

"What if I have told you," she said finally, after a long, suffocating silence, "that I don't really know... Is it really that bad? Does it really feel so bad?"

"It does, yes."

"Is there any difference between Robert and the two of you, you found a way to accept each other?"

"For Edward, River... it's the world of difference"

"For you?"

"It has not been the easiest thing I had to accept," said Oliver. He didn't expect the conversation with her to become so direct and serious so fast. He leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. She smelt like herself, and he revelled for a moment in her scent but he pulled out reluctantly.

"I will find Charlie, and we will look for Edward," he said heading out.


	10. Chapter 10

Oliver and Charlie stopped at the edge of sandy beach, where fresh footprints in the sand indicated human presence, leading to a sheltered cave.

"Ye be good alone from here?" asked Charlie.

Oliver let her supportive arm go and straightened his back.

"I believe so," he said, "you do not want to come with? You two are close friends."

Charlie's eyes softened with an expression of caring concern, and a brief, shy smile revealed dimples in her cheeks, before turning into a worried pout. She let out a deep sigh.

"We are, but we will just scare 'im if we go there together. Ye be exactly what he needs, Lieutenant."

Oliver offered Charlie's shoulder a quick squeeze and, limping, headed towards the entrance of the cave.

When his gaze adjusted to the murk of the interior, he recognised Edward's silhouette leaned against the limestone wall. The pirate captain looked like hell. Oliver quickly skimmed over dark circles under Edward's eyes, thick stubble and unkempt, grimy hair. His absent gaze fixed at the void in front of him. He shrank to himself, comparing to his usual straight and powerful posture.

"Edward?"

He received a low grunt as an answer.

"How long since you have anything to eat?"

Edward answered nothing, and Oliver made a few steps in his direction. He noticed the reek of sweat, dirt, and a smell he initially couldn't quite place, but soon he noticed the dried out puke on the cavern ground.

"Edward, are you sick?" he kept talking to him, slowly, getting closer with every step to have Edward at his arm's length. He reached for the pirate and his palm kneaded his shoulder. At the sudden touch, Edward shuddered and turned his head towards Oliver. Their eyes met.

Oliver's heart wrenched in his chest when he looked deep into Edward's chestnut eyes, now red and moist. He saw void, and despair, and tormented shame. It was only a moment before the pirate broke their eye contact, but all Oliver wanted to do is pull him into his embrace and hug him hard. He didn't go through with that idea, but he pulled out a small cloth sack from the sailor's ditty bag wrapped around his shoulder and passed it to Edward.

"Here, some victuals, Henry baked for you," Oliver said, watching the pirate clumsily holding the package, hesitant. He finally unwrapped it. The smell of fresh soft bread hit Oliver's nose, and he noticed with satisfaction Edward tearing off a sizeable chunk of the loaf.

"But do not haste, I do not think you are in a condition… That should be enough before we put you on sick diet's gruel," he paused and cocked his head, his hand still digging in the bag, searching for something else, "I believe you might use this."

He pulled out a small flask and handed it over to Edward.

"Just a concoction of water and the citron rinds."

He watched as Edward swallowed the bread and took a sip from the flask. A slight hint of a grimace appeared on his face.

"Thank you," hoarse growl came out of Edward's throat suddenly, and Oliver nodded.

"You made us all sick at heart when you have disappeared like that."

Edward hung his head, avoiding showing his face.

"And River?"

From a gruff tone of Edward's voice, Oliver realised the difficulty that speaking caused to the pirate.

"She is well. Her wound was never grievous," he said, carefully avoiding mentioning Robert's role and the gentleness of the other pirate.

Edward straightened up hearing those words. The warm sensation spread in Oliver's chest as he noticed how the tension visibly lifted from the pirate's shoulders. His expression lightened up and when he spoke there was sadness, but also calmness in his voice.

"Does she hate me?"

"I do not know. She asked about you. I do not think so."

Edward grabbed a handful of sand and watched it passing through his fingers, before speaking again.

"She should hate me. I have never deserved her," he said, casting a side look at Oliver, "you have always been a better option for her."

"I say not so."

"Aye. But I do."

They sat in silence, the sound of rolling waves echoed in the cave. Oliver thought about Edward's past involvement with his father, and how doing the Admiral's dirty job cast a long shadow over the pirate's entire life. He thought about his own life too. If it wasn't for River, Mortemer would have been hanged at the Port Royal gallows and it would have been his doing. River had changed them both, and Oliver knew their friendship was only possible because she appeared in their lives. He still loved her, but he couldn't imagine his life without the pirate captain now, too.

"You know," he insisted, "that is not the truth. I was even worse than you. If it was not for her, I would still be chasing pirates all over the Spanish Main."

Edward snorted in response.

"Aye. But I hurt her."

"She hurt you,… us, too. All the rest was an accident."

Edward's breath sped up, and Oliver regretted mentioning River's part in the whole situation. 

"You think she... is she serious about Robert?" Edward asked him.

"I think that she and Robert had a lot more in common, to begin with."

"What if... what if she won't forgive me and choose Robert instead?" 

Pain and sorrow in Edward's voice sent a shiver through Oliver's body. He didn't want to see Edward hurt. His own voice surprised him.

"Edward... even if she won't forgive you," he said, trying to catch Edward's eyes, although the pirate avoided his gaze, "I am not going anywhere. You will still have me."

"I am not worthy of you, either."

Finally, they exchange a long look, full of vulnerability and suffering, and all Oliver could do was lean in to kiss Edward. It was soft at first. Lips not used to taste one another yet, still exploring, still new to the idea. Melting against each other. Then the kiss grew stronger, fierce. Edward's gruff facial hair felt raw against Oliver's skin. Ragged breathing caught in each other throats, and Oliver pulled Edward's hair to draw him even closer. Then he broke the kiss.

"Not worth it?" he growled and pressed his lips to Edward's again, this time shoving his strong tongue deep into the pirate's mouth, his hands grazing his muscular shoulders and back, digging his nails in the taut muscles until the pirate hissed. 

Oliver pulled out and laughed. 

"You are so worth it." His arms embraced Edward into a warm hug, tugging his head into his chest, fingers enlaced into his hair. He didn't know how much time they spent like this, in silence, listening to each other's breaths and heartbeats, until he reluctantly pulled back and said.

"Let's take you back."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Twelfth Cake (King's Cake) idea and the hidden items list come directly from "The Diary of Henry Teonge, Chaplain on board of His Majesty Ship's Assistance" 1675-1679, available as a full text from Google Books.

The sun was already setting down when Charlie reached the camp. Festive atmosphere waiting for her, tables covered with a freshly washed tablecloth, new napkins, embroidered with navy tasteful arms and crests, they coaxed Doyle to take from the Intrepid wardroom, piled up in one corner, prepared for the serving of the cake, and candles lighted for the celebration of the Twelfth Night, were comforting and felt like family. Her own pirate family. Charlie smiled at the sight of rum already flowing between two crews, both the pirates and the navy enjoying the last day of festivities. Henry came up close to her.

"We are ready for the celebration."

"Serve the King' Cake, Henry," she said, "we shall leave their pieces for the Captain and the Lieutenant, but they will not hurry back."

"Sure, Charlie," Henry didn't sound convinced, but she didn't care. Edward wouldn't be comfortable taking part in that big celebration with the crews anyway, and both men could certainly use their time alone. She started to like their navy friend, and the sneaking suspicion she'd had before about them being interested in each other, and not only being in love with River, turned into certainty after seeing them interact on that island. _Let 'em boys be boys_. She giggled under her nose.

"I will help, Henry!!!" Ginny let out an excited shriek and ran after the cook to help him bring out the cake. 

"Should we send for River, Charlie?" Ada asked while she, her brother, and Maggie joined the quartermaster at the head of the table.

"I will take care of that. We should let her rest," said Robert, his raspy voice cut in their conversation, earning a couple of suspicious looks, but Charlie nodded with understanding. Ax let out a disappointed sigh and opened his mouth to say something, but Ada elbowed him before he made a sound. 

All the attention turned to Henry, who, led by Ginny, brought the cake in. It was tall and fashionable, decorated with white icing and sugar ornaments on top. They placed it in the middle of the table and the little girl handed over a big knife to Charlie. She cut it into several pieces; they put them on the napkins and every crew member gathered to help themselves to the cake.

"Did ye hide everythin' inside as we talked?" Charlie winked at Henry.

"Aye. A beane for the king, a pease for the queen, a clove for the knave..."

"A forked stick for the cuckold, and a rag for the slut," Ginny finished bursting into giggles and covering her eyes before Jonas shot her the chastening look. 

"Ginny, watch your tongue!"

Everyone gathered around, each one breaking their own slice, the scent of cloves, mace, and cinnamon filling the air along with the smell of the fresh plum cake and lemon peel.

"A rag?!!" 

Officer Doyle was the first one to find the hidden object in his cake and yelled with a surprise.

"Tis' must be wishful thinking," said officer Aldridge, shaking his head, but Ada sent them an inviting wink, and both officers' faces turned red.

While the rest of the crew dug into their own pieces, looking for the remaining objects, especially for the bean and the pea, Kendrick pulled out the Twelfth Night cards, and Robert, taking advantage of the playful racket, got closer to the table. Blessing the absence of the lieutenant who would never let his precious set wander around the camp, he grabbed the nicest plate from Oliver's china and helped himself to a piece of cake. Then he headed towards the tent where River was been sleeping.

* * *

River was wide awake, laying on her side, browsing slowly through one of Oliver's naval logs.

"How are you feeling?" Robert asked, placing the plate on the temporary night-table close to Oliver's bed, "Twelfth Night Cake."

"Oh…" she said, "I didn't realise Christmas was already over." 

She closed the book and shifted her body to let Robert sit on the bed.

"It's boring," she pouted.

She had to be feeling better; she was back to her annoying self. Robert smirked, his eyes skimming over her face. The colour had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes were shining like before.

"You want me to cheer you up?" he asked, squinting his eyes. His palm wandered to the nape of her neck, and rubbed, his fingers pressing into her muscles. She leaned into his touch and purred like a lazy kitten.

"You are not afraid of...?" River suspended her voice, her body giving in to his teasing touch.

"They are not here," he said, slowing down his movements, but she let out a protesting hiss in response. He settled close to her on the bed, and his fingers squeezed her nape, "but maybe we should discuss it."

"I don't know..."

"You don't know if you want to discuss it? Or you don't know..."

"I don't know what I want," she said and collapsed on the bed, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I thought you wanted to be back," Robert said. She was definitely her annoying self again. 

"I want to be back. And I want them," she said and closed her eyes. "but ... but I want you too."

At first, Robert thought he misheard her. He never expected her to admit any feelings for him; their arrangement in the future worked, but they had never talked about it. Hearing it coming from her mouth felt nice, a warm feeling traveling down his spine and tightening a knot in his stomach. He almost fell for her again, and this was not what he had in mind. He inhaled sharply.

"River. That almost cost you your life before."

"Are you breaking up with me?" her lips curved into a sad pout and her eye-lashes batted slowly.

"I am immune to that trick," he said. That was not completely true, but he was able to control it. 

"And no, I am not breaking up with you," his thumb grazed her cheek, but he pulled away and reached for the plate, "but I want you to sort that out. Cake?"

She still slid him her heartbroken look, but accepted the plate and dug into the cake. 

"You've got to be kidding me, a stick!? Henry must have lost his mind!" she said annoyed, holding in her hand a thin, short stick, forked at one end.

"You don't say," Robert sniggered.

"What the hell is this, Robert?"

"This, my dear," he answered amused, "means someone is cheating on you."

He barely finished his sentence when someone yelled, "Sail ho!" and breathless Ginny ran into the tent.

"Robert, come! It's..." her breath caught in her throat for a moment, "the Damnation is dropping the anchor!"


	12. Chapter 12

Octavia was standing at the helm of the Damnation, facing the beach of la Blanquilla in front of her. She pulled out the spyglass and looked at two ships careened over the white sands. The vessel heaved alongside the sloop fitting the description of the new Mortemer's catch was a navy frigate, no other than the Intrepid, the ship of the Admiral's son.

"Damn navy dogs!" she cursed loudly and turned to the crew, expecting her orders.

"Change the course and bring her about hundred and eighty degrees, broadside to the beach!" she said to the helmsmen.

The Damnation was a nimble ship, but she was still big enough to carry 20 guns. Firing a broadside in direction of the coast gave Octavia a fighting chance, even if she would be up against both Edward's crew and the Navy.

Her expert eye skimmed over the land, assessing the dunes, looking for the strategically mounted guns. She couldn't locate all of them, and it worried her a bit. Limestone formations perfect for installing the gun stations surrounded the long, gently sloping beach, leaving the Damnation in the line of fire all the time, no matter the position of her ship.

Whoever wanted to make the first move, had to do it fast.

"Prepare us to attack. Get the cannons ready. And raise Robert's black!"

She was in her element commanding freshly recruited crew when she felt a sudden presence of someone approaching her.

"Samuel…"

"Hmm… Oh dear, are you going to attack them with no reason, Octavia?"

"Look through my spyglass. What do you make of it?" she said, reaching towards Samuel.

"By my fay, these are our mates fraternizing with the…" he said after a while and careful studying of the view. She didn't wait until he finished.

"Continue the preparations, mates! Gunners prepare the cannons, ready for the volley!"

"Is that wise, Octavia? We don't even know why the navy is here, it doesn't seem contentious, just two ships careening. Once you start it, it will be hard to stop the bloodbath. This was once our family are you…"

"Family can be complicated, Samuel," she barked.

"Octavia…"

"Shut up, Samuel!"

"Shut up, Samuel! Shut up, Samuel! Graak!" the blackbird settled at Octavia's shoulder repeated, and the pirate surgeon sighed heavily, shaking his head, but reminded silent.

The Damnation was changing the position, but their eyes were still fixed on the beach where several figures gathered, and they could recognize both their old crew and navy officers and sailors. Octavia peered through her spyglass again. She identified Charlie, Maggie, and Kendrick, and the rest of the pirates, along with some blue uniforms of the navy. It looked like they were friendly with their mortal enemy, and Octavia flinched, fighting a sudden need to spit. There was no sign of Edward and the Admiral's son, but she knew exactly what to do to lure them out.

"Run a shot across the bow!" She ordered, and a single shot tore through the air, leaving the trace of white smoke behind.

"Octavia…"

"Cannons ready! Guns…"

"Gor blimey! Octavia!" Samuel sputtered, then he squeezed her arm excited, "I think the captain is there."

She pulled out her spyglass again, and her heart pounded hard in her chest. Led by Ginny, a muscular silhouette, clad in black leather appeared on the beach and approached Charlie. Robert was back. Her eyes blinked several times in disbelief, and a couple more times in the effort to hold back sudden tears filling in her eyes. Octavia cleared her throat before reaching to the black parrot on her shoulder and whispering:

"Go, find your captain!"

A pair of black wings fluttered for a moment before the bird took off, heading towards the coast.

* * *

"Robert," Charlie said at his sight, the furrows in her forehead betrayed her concern, "what the hell Octavia might be doin' ?!"

"How the hell should I know, Charlie?"

"Is she not your favourite?"

Robert cast her a scrutinizing look. He had grown exhausted before of competition between Charlie and Octavia for his recognition. He had always treated them both like his own daughters, taken neither of them had had an easy childhood and a responsible father figure. Both of them were fearless and talented, and he was proud of both of them. Charlie's friendship with Edward had been a blow that had hurt him, and he had admitted to himself that he had grown closer to Octavia since then. But this was really not the right time for Charlie to play the jealousy card.

"Seriously, Charlie? End this childish rivalry," he scolded her, earning an angry frown in response.

"She just fired a warnin' salve at us, Robert, I think we are past anything childish."

"Sink me!" Robert muttered under his nose.

The Damnation was indeed positioned with her broadside facing the beach. He took a spyglass from Charlie's hand and peered straight into the raw of open gun holes and shiny cannons ready to be fired. Octavia had to be really mad about the navy. He smirked at the sight of his colours flying on the masts. He was also kind of proud of her, although they needed a plan on how to stop her from attacking their camp.

* * *

The blackbird circled over the island, lowering its flight over the sandy beach and observing the crew gathered close to the heaved ships. Suddenly the colorful parrot joined in and chimed cheerfully, cocking its head lightly.

"Pretty girl! Pretty girl!"

"Pretty bird! Pretty bird!" the black parrot preened proudly in response.

They floated together for a while, eyeing each other with curiosity, then the black parrot dived in towards the beach, chirping.

"Hello, captain! Hello captain!" and finally alit at surprised Robert's shoulder.

* * *

The rowboat rocked gently over the rolling waves when Robert and Charlie approached the Damnation.

"Octavia!" he yelled.

On the sound of his voice, she rushed towards the ship railing, and her crew lowered a line so they could climb to the ship.

"Captain!"

When they finally got on the deck, Octavia tried to pull Robert into a welcoming embrace, but he stopped her abruptly and scowled.

"What the hell are you doing, Octavia?"


	13. Chapter 13

"What the hell?! What the hell?! Graaak!"

The black parrot alit on Robert's shoulder, fluffing his ruffled plumage with his beak and preening long feathers on his head.

Robert squinted his eyes with satisfaction. Under his feet, the wooden deck of the Damnation was rocking gently with the rhythm of the tide, and he revelled in the soft purr of water lapping at the hull. The rigging moaned under the light caress of the breeze, and he smelt the saline air with the next draught touching his face. Now he was truly back on his own ship, to the life he missed. The symphony of familiar sensations enveloped him, and his anger slowly drifted away.

"Robert?! How did you get back?!"

Octavia's question snapped him out of his moment, her big brown eyes fixed on him with admiring anticipation.

"The compass, it took River and me six months of trying, but it finally worked," he said, trying to hinder his voice from letting on any emotions while mentioning River under Octavia's observant gaze. She wouldn't be pleased finding out about them, but his most pressing concern was right now with a possible clash between her and Charlie. He needed though to at least warn her before they got to the island. She was loyal to him but rude and erratic, and while in the past it had worked perfectly with his own ruthless attitude, protecting River was his priority. Too many fierce women in his life.

Robert sighed, "and we got back on Christmas Day."

"Oh wow, six months with that witch! That must have been..." Octavia sounded surprised. A hint of jealousy tinted her voice, so Robert cut in.

"Not important. Now care to enlighten me, Octavia, why were you trying to destroy my ship. You must have noticed that the cove is protected by a double number of cannons," he said.

"You mean, our ship, Captain?"

Charlie shifted and huffed at those words, and a metallic clang warned him that her hand wandered to the hilt of her weapon. Before she drew it out, Robert stepped in, separating the two of them with his body.

"Mine, ours... the point is you have just dropped an anchor in front of a protected camp, and what," he barked, "even if you managed to fire the broadside, the cannons from the cliffs would have sent the Damnation to the Davy Jones' Locker. Haven't I taught you better than this?"

"She was never the smartest one, Robert," Charlie giggled and Octavia growled, her hand reaching for her sword, making one step forward.

"You bilge..."

"Peace, my hearties!" Robert grunted, "no fighting on my ship."

He stressed the word _my_ looking at Octavia, before turning to the crew who gathered around them. There were a couple of fresh faces, but most of the surrounding pirates had been faithful to him for a long time or joined him after the mutiny. They would listen to him now.

"Defuse the cannons and prepare the rowboats to go to the shore. Charlie, go find Samuel," he ordered and paused, casting a serious look in Octavia's direction.

"Go for your things. You ride ashore with me. We have to talk before we reach the beach," he said, lowering his voice so only she could hear him.

* * *

They rode in silence, the rhythmic sound of rowing interrupted from time to time by stronger waves splashing at the boat's side. Robert looked pensive, his eyes fixed somewhere above Octavia's head, and she waited for a moment for him to start talking. She wondered what he wanted to talk to her about. She sighed lightly. Was this the moment she had waited for her entire life? Was he going to confess? Or at least acknowledge her. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and a small knot tightened in her stomach. No, it wouldn't be wise to get her hopes up. Maybe if she would be lucky, she could mention her feelings for him. She suddenly felt brave.

"So, Captain?" Octavia broke the silence. He didn't react at first, so she repeated it louder. "Robert? you wanted to talk."

She held her breath, waiting for his response. She watched him turn his gaze from the shore he was observing until he finally met her eyes. His expression was serious but undecipherable. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and low.

"Once we get to the camp, I need you to keep your temper and your tongue under control."

She didn't expect that, an uneasy feeling washed over her.

"Is it the navy? Why you want to be friendly with the navy dogs?" she snapped.

She knew that the damned Edward was suddenly all cozy with the navy and the Admiral's son and that Robert had worked with the Admiral himself in the past. But she didn't like that idea.

"That too, no more havoc, just until we leave the island. No one needs more violence and confrontations, Octavia. And be nice to River, she has not been well lately."

Octavia listened to him, her suspicions growing with his every word.

"We won't take long, I just need to solve some matters first, and we would be good to weigh an anchor in no time."

"What sort of matters?"

Robert hesitated. Some kind of grimace run across his face, but then the squint of his eyes smoothened, and he suddenly looked peaceful. This was something new.

"Personal matters."

The realisation slowly dawned on her.

"What kind of personal matters?"

"Nothing that concerns you. But if you must know, during those six months me and River..."

She couldn't stop a sudden gasp that ripped from her throat.

"Octavia?"

She turned her face towards the water, away from Robert, blessing a sudden gust of wind that covered her cheek with her hair, protecting her from his look, while she desperately tried to hold her tears. All that time she had waited for him to notice her, and he never... Her throat tightened. And River? That bilge strumpet, hadn't she had enough with Edward and the Admiral's son?

Octavia shook her head. She had been ready to confess her feelings for that idiot, but she never stood a chance. She swallowed the last tears running down her face.

"Do what you need to do, Captain," she grunted.

* * *

River put her feet down from the bed. It seemed like quite a lot of time had passed since there was any movement in the camp, as everybody gathered at the beach. She felt terribly alone. The loneliness was a feeling that had accompanied her since she had got hurt. Oliver and Edward still didn't come back, and she was growing increasingly anxious. What if something bad happened to Edward? She couldn't even think about it without tears shimmering in her eyes and her heart pounding wildly. She wrapped her arms around herself, tight, trying to calm down.

Robert also disappeared, and she didn't know what to make out of it. The last thing she knew was the Damnation dropping the anchor, but nobody came back to the camp yet. She didn't keep track of time, and it seemed long since Ginny came to pick him up. Or was he going to leave her without saying goodbye, at least? She didn't want him to go, but now when his crew was here it seemed obvious and probably for the best. Missing Robert? So many things had changed in her life, and he seemed to be a big part of it.

She drew in a long breath and rose to her feet. Her head was slightly dizzy. She had had to lose a lot of blood, so she couldn't rush now. Slowly, she had to take one small step. And the next. It would not be easy, but the beach was not so far away, and she gained confidence, speed, and balance with every move.

The heat and brightness of the sunlight hit her when she left the tent. The air felt sultry, but a fresh breeze from the ocean was a nice change after these couple of days when she got stuck in the bed. Taking a deep breath in, she let the wind play with her hair and the rays of sun caress her face.

It took her longer than expected, but she finally approached the beach. Both pirates and the navy crews were still gathered together, watching the Damnation anchored in afar and several raw boats heading towards the shore. River covered her eyes and recognised Robert with Octavia in one of the boats. Charlie and Samuel followed them.

Focused on watching Robert's crew approaching, she didn't realise there was a sudden movement at the beach in front of her, until she heard two familiar voices. Her heart raced, thudding in her chest. Edward. Oliver...

"Edward!" she cried, her voice shivering, at the verge of tears. Happy tears.

She didn't even know where she found the strength to run towards them. Towards Edward. Then all she knew was his hard, warm body, her face buried in his chest, his arm wrapping around her in an awkward, timid way.

"Edward."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains an explicit scene.

For a moment, there was only Edward's warm body. Hard ridges of his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled his smell. It was strong; he reeked of stress and sweat, but it was the scent of her Edward, the scent that had made her head spin every time they had made love. Sharp and searing, but she found that incredibly erotic. And it felt familiar, and familiar was what she needed now.

Edward's arm tightened around her instinctively before pulling her away, his palm resting on her unharmed shoulder. River could sense his restraint and gentleness. She raised her head to meet his eyes. God, she missed this deep, brown warmth of his gaze. The suffering and the guilt she read in them filled her eyes with tears and her chest tightened.

"Edward, are you…" she couldn't properly articulate words through her clenched throat.

"Miss Highridge?" his voice was hoarse, low, uncertain, "how do you feel? Does it… does it hurt?"

His chin pointed towards her injury, and she shook her head in response, giving him an uncertain blink.

"Do you hate me?"

Edward looked genuinely surprised by this question.

"Miss Highridge, why? I could never… I could never hate you," he said, lowering his voice even more, just for her to hear, "How could you ever think that? It's me you should hate."

It hurt that he was calling her Miss Highridge now. Her palms tightened at the collar of his leather jacket.

"Edward, call me River, you know that, please… and don't say that," she felt hot tears slipping from the corner of her eyes, and trickling down her cheeks, her fingers digging in the leather desperately, "it was all my fault, I should have… I should have talked to you first…"

God, she hoped he would listen to her now. She couldn't lose him. Not when they were back, not when it all fell into place. She couldn't return to the dark, lonely time before she had found him. Before she had found Oliver and Robert, too. She had never had so many people she had feelings for in her life, and it was now slipping through her fingers again. Her heart pounded out an erratic rhythm.

"Can we still talk, Edward? Please…"

He seemed hesitant at first. A doubtful, pained flash appeared for a moment in his eyes. Then he softened. His hand retreated from her shoulder to squeeze her palm. Their gazes met.

"Miss Highridge, River…"

She would have sworn that her heart shredded in tiny pieces when he used her name.

"River, can you give me a moment to refresh myself?" Edward cast a quick look on his clothes.

"Of course, Edward. I will wait for you here," she said, reaching out towards Oliver's hand, enlacing her fingers through his, "Oliver, can you wait with me for him?"

"Yes," he agreed, "I will."

* * *

Edward left them, and they settled on the warm sand, watching the waves crashing gently on the surf. The on-shore wind ruffled high crests that were turning into white foamy lips, small fizzes of salty spray cutting through the air. River's fingers clutched Oliver's.

"I am sorry…" she said, realising it, and loosened her grasp.

"No, that is all right," he answered, responding with a gentle squeeze of his palm.

"Do you think we will be well again?" she sighed, supporting her chin on her knees, her free hand reaching around her ankles, trying to untie her shoes.

"The three of us?"

"The three of us," she nodded and let out a small laugh, "I think the two of you are faring pretty well. No more the navy and the pirate animosity?"

"Edward is a righteous man."

"Somehow I think there is more to it. But I just hope," she finally took off her shoes, her feet digging into white sand, "that we can find the way to be together, the three of us, like we just were…"

Oliver snorted.

"What about Robert?"

River hesitated, a warm feeling crawled upon her cheeks.

"I like Robert, too," she murmured under her nose, "I would like to keep seeing him from time to time."

Oliver choked, and she turned her face to meet his eyes.

"I do like the three of you, Oliver. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Robert, and… I don't know what would have happened after I came back to the future if it wasn't for him," she paused.

Her throat was burning with tears she was holding back. The memories of her empty life before, being in the spotlight for her beauty, random men in the industry that had tried to pick her up, that had used every opportunity to lure her to have sex with them, expecting her to have sex with them in exchange for professional favours. No female friends, no invitations to school parties since she had been what, 16? Too beautiful for her own good. The first time she had really felt complete and accepted truly had been after she had met Edward's crew. And three men, that didn't treat her just as pretty face.

"I wish you could understand, I never really had anybody before."

"You do not expect us to," Oliver hesitated, "treat Robert the same way we do each other?"

"No, I don't. I just need some time to be with him too."

Both of them fell silent. River closed her eyes, listening to the sound of crashing waves, giving in to the gentle touch of Oliver's thumb stroking her hand. She felt exhausted already, and it was just the first conversation she needed to have.

* * *

Sheltered protectively by Oliver's embrace, her head resting on his shoulder, she didn't know how much time had passed before she heard the light creaking of the sand under someone's footsteps behind them. She slowly opened her eyes. 

"Miss Highridge? River?" Edward corrected himself before she did, "do you fancy a walk along the beach?"

He looked brighter, more relaxed, wearing just a fresh shirt, a couple of top buttons unfastened, exposing his muscular chest. River smiled at the familiar sensation of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She looked up at him.

"Always."

Her lips grazed Oliver's cheek, "if that's all right with you?"

"Go," he said, raising his eyes towards Edward, "God's speed. And right the wrongs, I am not giving up on any of you."

River followed Edward, who strolled down the tide-line. They walked in silence, enjoying the tropical sun and the salty breeze. She reached out to grab his hand, but he pulled out his fingers from her reach.

"Edward?"

"That is unwise."

"Why? Edward? I still…" her voice got caught in her throat and her eyes welled up with tears.

"Because I am dangerous; because I hurt you," he growled, "because I should have never let you get close to me."

He sped up, but she ran after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face her.

"Edward, stop!" she cried through tears, "Do you really regret everything?"

"Nay! Of course not!" he let out a hoarse bark, painful grimace appearing on his face, "I do regret hurting you, I only brought you pain!"

"That is not true, Edward!" she sobbed, her body trembling now, "you were the first person to give me love, to give me hope. I… I have never loved anybody before you. Not like this!"

They both fell silent after that, only muffled sobs still ripped out from her throat. He studied her face for a long while, but she couldn't tell what was he searching for.

"Please, Edward," her palm tugged on the hem of his shirt, "it's all my fault, don't push me away, I love you…"

Tears ran down her cheeks and her chin, and she desperately wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"Please…"

Edward hesitantly finally pulled her in. Her face buried into the opening of his shirt, still weeping, but his warm embrace and his sudden soft voice in her ear were slowly calming her down.

"I just cannot stand seeing you hurt, Miss Highridge, not from my own hand."

She let out a small yip before answering.

"And I can't stand hurting you, too. I should have talked to you about Robert."

Edward's body tensed on the mention of Robert, but he didn't pull away.

"Talk to me now, River."

"I may like Robert too," she said, her voice tremulous and uncertain. She cleared her throat, and repeated, "I like Robert the same way I like you and Oliver".

Her hand grazed his taut abs in a soothing gesture.

"I like the three of you."

"Just like that?" Edward grunted.

"No, not just like that. He," River paused. Both of her palms wandered all over his stomach and his chest, caressing his hot skin. His muscles rippled under her touch.

"He saved me. When we got back. I wouldn't have survived without him, Edward. My life before you here was empty, a semi-successful career but no love like you, Oliver, and the crew gave me. I had things and missed those things when I was here the first time around, I thought I couldn't adjust to life here. But I did."

She paused, catching a breath, her hands sliding along Edward's sides over his back. She pulled him closer, and he returned the embrace.

"You gave me family I never had before. Back there, people wanted things from me, sex mostly, but I didn't have friends. And when we got back, and couldn't make the compass work for so long… Robert was the only thing I had. The only thing after I…" she swallowed hard, "Robert was the one who didn't lose hope and who found the way back."

Her tears dried out. She was calm again but exhausted, her heartbeat slowing down. She felt Edward's heart pounding in his chest and she listened to its soothing beat. Hopefully, he could understand that Robert became a part of her life.

They stood in silence, embraced, listening to the steady rhythm of waves reaching the shore. Somewhere in afar a sudden donkey braying cut through the air and they shared a small laugh.

"I see," Edward said finally, his palm entangling through her hair, bringing her face up to him. She could look him in the eyes. "What do you want me to do? I cannot be friends with him, you know that."

"I know. Just… please don't kill him," they both laughed again, "and let me see him from time to time, please."

Edward growled in response, and she considered it a yes.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered.

He muttered something in response, and she didn't waste any second. Her lips pressed to his, searing, wanting, wiping away the days of pain and longing. His mouth was hungry and desperate too, coaxing her to open hers and let his tongue in, exploring feverishly. Their tongues probed each other, wet and strong. Her breath caught in her throat and her knees gave in when his teeth grazed her upper lip.

"Miss Highridge, are you all right?" Edward broke the kiss and held her close to him.

"Yes," she was breathless, voiceless, "Maybe we could lie down."

* * *

The warm sand of the small hidden cove they wandered into welcomed their bodies.

"Come back here," River pulled Edward in for a kiss the moment they lay down.

She had missed that. She had missed his mouth on hers, her soft lips against his hard, insistent ones. Their tongues together, lashing over each other. A muffled moan formed in her throat in no time, but she only let it out, loud and clear when Edward's lips reached the hollow of her neck, sucking and biting, nipping and scratching her delicate skin with his stubble.

"More, I want you…" she whined when his teeth grazed her nipple through the fabric of her clothes. She ached for his touch for so long.

Her hands reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it and tearing it away, pulling his hard muscles towards her, his naked skin against her. She claimed his lips again, while he worked his way under her clothes, coaxing them away.

"Is this all right?" he stopped for a brief second, his eyes fixed on the sutured wound above her breast.

"Yes…" she sighed into his mouth, "touch me, please…"

River's palm reached for his, guiding him towards her breasts, leading him gently at first. Then she encouraged him. He squeezed and fondled, pinning puckered nipples, sending a throbbing sensation down her spine.

His fingers travelled lower, tracing the subtle skin around her navel. Her breath held in her throat when he reached her underwear and slipped his fingers in between her slick folds. Edward's eyes didn't leave her face for a moment, studying every sound and every expression, every frown and every blush crawling upon her cheeks.

With every touch, she was now grounding against his groin, panting hard. He pushed his body into her, and she realised how hard he was.

"Edward…"

She wrapped her thighs around him and using her entire body weight, flipped them around. She leaned into him and kissed him, deep, her fingers dug into his hair. When they came for air, she straightened for a moment and took her remaining clothes off. Edward did the same.

"River, you are so beautiful…" he grunted when she straddled his loin, her full breasts and aroused nipples bathed in the Caribbean sun. He reached to caress her cheek, and she turned her face, kissing the inside of his palm.

She braced her hands on his chest, her palms pressing into it and kneading his taut muscles. Her nails dug in until he hissed. His cock pressed against her twitched and she rolled her hips, rubbing herself slowly into him. Now it was her turn to watch his reactions, his yearning grunts, and half-opened eyes. His hands clenched on her hips, but he was patient, letting her take the lead and enjoy herself. Her warm, slick folds slid over his thick length in a slow dance. She arched her back, her nipples now impossibly hard and sensitive, puckered by the ocean breeze, seducing Edward to enjoy the view.

She grounded harder against him; her clit connected with the head of his cock, and both of them moaned. It was hard but soft against her. She was soaking wet and her moisture mixed with his pre-cum.

"Edward…" she purred when the tip of his cock slid inside her. He squeezed her hips and fondled her butt.

His cock sank deep into her, parting her folds and expanding her tight walls. She rode him slowly, gently, savoring every time he entered her, reaching deeper, pleasure gliding along her muscles with every stroke.

She gradually increased the speed, the head of Edward's cock hitting her most sensitive spot. Her tight opening was now throbbing with every plunge. Every time she thrust a moan ripped out from her throat, and Edward responded with hoarse grunts. She was grinding and rolling until the pulsating promise forced her body to lean forward. His mouth welcomed her, claiming her lips, his strong palms digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

When his mouth pressed to her aching nipple, sucking it and grazing it with his teeth, her muscles clenched around him in a mind-blowing bliss, twitching and shivering. Her orgasm was still rolling through her when Edward thrust a couple more times and came inside her with a loud growl.

Still panting, they drifted into the warm sand and snuggled, kissing.

"Now we have matching scars," River said, settling into his shoulder when they finally broke apart.

She blessed him with a shy smile, and her fingers grazed his scar.

"That's not funny, Miss Highridge."

Edward frowned at her, but she laughed and hid her face in the crook of his neck. His hand pressed her harder against his chest and his lips brushed her hair. A wave broke with a loud crash, splashing their feet.

"We should get back. The tide is rising," said Edward.

River lifted her head fixing her eyes on his.

"I don't want to go back just yet," she said, pressing her lips to his in another searing kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

The first boats of the Damnation’s crew didn’t yet reach the shore when the navy soldiers deployed along the beach in a long line-formation. Facing the ocean, they awaited the pirates, ready for the orders. Edward’s men joined them. Ada squeezed in between Doyle and Aldridge.

“Gentlemen, Will you be fighting? Tis’ exiting, I am dying to see you in action,” she whispered, loud enough for the nearest soldiers to overhear her. Both officers blushed.

“Ada, tis’ not likely to happen!” Ax said, “Charlie and Robert are coming with them.”

“Well, you never know with the pirates, better to expect unexpected,” said the Master of Arms, his palm tightening on the hilt at his waist.

Ada squeaked, enlacing her arm through his, and his cheeks turned even redder. Ax shook his head and let out a loud sigh.

“Oh, sister, I see you are determined to keep our navy friends distracted.”

He barely finished his sentence when the first pirates arrived, jumping off the rowboats. They formed a parallel line in front of the navy. Both sides eyed each other with anticipant tension. The silence was broken only by resounding waves crashing over the tide-line, sloping of boats being dragged into the sand, and sloshing of heavy boots in the shallow water. Sun reflected in half-drawn swords.

Robert jumped off his boat, leaving it to Octavia, and sped up in front of his crew to face Doyle and Aldridge.

“What a warm welcome, gentlemen!” he barked out loud, approaching them, “and here I thought we enjoyed our little festive armistice.”

“That was before your ship fired a warning salve at us,” Aldridge said, assuming his First Mate duties, “Tis’ precautionary steps until we know what your intentions are, captain.”

Before he managed to answer that, Octavia joined him, her sword drawn, pointing in the navy officers’ direction. Her action was met with the clang of steel of several weapons unsheathed on both sides.

Robert stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“Damn, Octavia, I told you to keep it under control,” he hissed.

“Everything is all right, we are just going to stay here for a couple of days,” Robert said with a placating tone, “we can all put the weapons down.”

He forced Octavia to lower her sword.

“Where is your Lieutenant, anyway?”

A wave of concerned murmuring rolled through the navy line, but then a husky voice sounded from behind.

“I am here, captain.”

Doyle moved aside, letting Oliver through. Polly settled at his shoulder, her colourful plumage adorning the deep blue of his navy uniform. She preened at the sight of the black parrot dancing with small steps along Robert's shoulders, swaying lightly. They greeted each other with joyful screeches.

Both men held each other’s gaze for a long while.

“This force demonstration, was that really necessary?” Robert was the first one to break the silence.

“Depends on your intentions, captain. You got your ship back. What is now with the landing of the whole crew?”

“Just for a couple of days, I have some unresolved matters to attend,” the pirate paused, fixing his eyes on Oliver’s, “I would appreciate the courtesy, Lieutenant.”

“I take it, no violence from your mates,” Oliver said, weighing his response, “tis’ a small island, but big enough for the three crews.”

“You may stand down, Mr. Aldridge, Mr. Doyle.”

His command was followed without questioning. He turned and headed down the beach. Robert followed him.

“Captain?”

Robert waited until they were out of reach of prying ears.

“I haven’t seen River at the beach, is she…?”

“With Edward,” Oliver didn’t let him finish but cast a quick side look at Robert. He tried to speed up as much as his healing injuries allowed, leaving the pirate to his thoughts.

Polly writhed on his shoulder for a moment before fluttering her wings several times and took off. Robert’s bird joined her, and both flitted around the camp and the beach.

“With Edward! With Edward!” she chirped melodically.

“With Edward! With Edward! Graaak!” the black parrot chimed in over Robert’s head, earning a disgruntled growl.

* * *

The bright Caribbean sky began its descent into warm sunset when River and Edward, holding hands, returned to the camp. Octavia watched them from afar. She had hated both of them before; the foolhardy captain, that had taken the command from Robert, and she couldn’t forgive him that. And that daft girl that had appeared out of nowhere and had complicated their plans. And now… even Robert got bewitched by her. Octavia had never doubted that River was a witch, but now even her beloved captain had fallen for her. She shook her head and cast him a long, yearning look.

He was watching River and Edward too, his dark eyes fixed on their enlaced palms, gentle touches, and the glow. She could recognise that glow, and she was sure that so did Robert. A sudden sadness gripped her chest at the sight of his glowering gaze following River’s every move, her interacting now not only with Mortemer, but also with the navy lieutenant; her encouraging smiles, the way she grazed Edward’s cheek or brushed some unruly strands of Oliver’s hair; romantic dance, that Robert could not avert his eyes from, unveiling in front of them made Octavia sick with anger.

She wrapped her arms around herself. That was going to be a long couple of days, and she didn’t exactly know what Robert’s plans were. She sighed and headed down the beach. Maybe a walk and some fresh ocean breeze would clear her head.

* * *

Octavia was on her way to the beach when she noticed River at the edge of the camp. She was busy with doing laundry, her hands in the small wooden bowl, a brass kettle steaming with boiling water nearby, and the smell of the bar soap filling in the air.

 _A vantage of fraternising with the Navy_. Octavia let out a heavy breath, thinking about things they had missed on the Damnation, especially since Robert disappeared, and her own desperate attempts to maintain a basic washing routine on the ship. River didn’t look happy though, and Octavia sighed again. _What a spoilt lass._

She didn’t realise when she got so close to River, that their encounter seemed inevitable.

“Octavia?!” River said, looking up from the bowl of laundry, “long time no see.”

“You…” Octavia said, squinting her eyes. All the emotions she kept inside for the last couple of eventful days now flooded her. Her heartbeat sped up.

“Do you have something to say to me, Octavia?” River hissed in response, now raising to her feet, her wet palms balled into fists.

Octavia’s eyes shoot daggers at her.

“You, this is all your fault! You…” she closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye, grabbing River’s clothes and pulling her up close with all her strength, “all poor choices Edward ever made were because of you! And fraternising with the navy dogs! I knew you were the spy and a witch! And now Robert…”

“What about Robert, Octavia?!” River cried out, as Octavia’s nails grazed her healing wound, “jealous that I have been sleeping with him, not you?! I am so sick of your bullshit!!!”

“You bitch!”

These words hurt. River obviously knew where to hit.

River’s fingers entangled in Octavia’s hair, pulling hard. Octavia whined, but reached out towards River’s face with her nails, trying to scratch her.

“What did I tell you, Octavia!” Robert's voice beamed over them, his muscular arms separating River from Octavia’s reach.

Charlie followed him, pulling Octavia away when Robert tried to calm River down.

“Damnation Octavia! Have you completely lost your mind! I asked you to stay away!” Robert was pissed, and Octavia swallowed hard. It hurt letting him down, but it also hurt that he didn’t seem to understand her.

“Captain, I…”

He didn’t listen to her.

“I asked you, I trusted you. Why can’t I trust you with one, simple thing Octavia?!”

That was too much for her. Her cheeks were burning hot, eyes welling up with tears, and her heart pounding hard. She lowered her gaze to the ground to regain a minimum of control, but then she sped up and ran.

“Go to hell, Robert!” she shouted, trying to put as much distance between them as fast as possible.

Robert seemed completely astonished by that outburst, but it was not the end of surprises awaiting him.

“You old stupid oaf!”

Suddenly, Charlie drove her elbow straight into Robert’s stomach. He gasped for air and stumbled backward, reaching towards River.

“Ye really do not see it?” Charlie yelled at him.

“Do not see what, Charlie?!”

“Oh, men…” she sighed, shook her head, and followed running Octavia, leaving dumbfounded Robert behind.


End file.
